The Boy That Would Be Emperor
by AlwaysBetOnVoid
Summary: Go tell about the boy, stranger passing by for whose path and story-here they lie.
1. This Is Not The End

**A/N: This story has been completely re-written to work out all of my logistical, lore, and all other errors that have plagued some readers. Plus, it will be more in depth with the Warhammer 40k universe. In the previous version, I think I let my imagination run on some concepts, perhaps too much.**

**For those of you that received my PM back in January...I changed my mind. I will be reverting back to the original universe themes of Warhammer 40k. Sure, this story will probably not be finished anytime soon and the amount of characters and concepts it will incorporate will be immense. In the end however, I think I can do it and this time I will not be giving up on it.**

**I have spent many months debating with myself and writing future chapters, so the full rewrite will come as I write it. ****It is also highly possible and all but guaranteed this story will move to the M section somewhere in its lifetime, just to give you a heads up.**

**I listened to the trailer music from "Edge of Tomorrow" while writing this chapter.**

**All rights belong to their respective owners, I only own OC's.**

**Questions? Thoughts? Rages? PM me.**

* * *

**Long Ago...**

Humanity.

Hmmm...interesting.

Not perfect, but not entirely flawed. Right in the middle-flawed and perfect at the same time.

That is what we are.

If we are so flawed, than how did we come this far?

If we are so perfect, how did we become so vulnerable?

That was the sole purpose for which I was created by the Shamans, to prevent that vulnerability from manifesting into a horror never before seen in this reality. To manifest that perfection into an Imperium of a united human race.

It took many centuries, many forms, and many places to finally unite humanity.

It took too many deaths. My sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers. The death count of humans is uncountable, even I turn a blind eye towards it. So much blood and so many lifeless eyes fill the past. With a heavy and regretful heart, I accepted it.

But I achieved it! I united humanity! I did!

And in doing so, I say humanity on the path to eternal glory-to make this galaxy their own under my command and that of my sons-the warrior lords known simply as the Primarchs.

But...I failed them.

The last son that I thought could lead humanity to a brighter future nearly destroyed it. In my blindness of love for him, I could not see the dark taint that had slowly been infecting his mind until all hope had been lost. My sons were the greatest military commanders ever to have a human thought...but...I underestimated..._them_.

Though they far outnumber us and possess the power to overwhelm us at any given instant, they enjoy watching lesser beings toy around in their playground in the material universe, to them, it is all a simply game. The Blood God, The Prince of Excess, The Lord of Change, and the Plague God.

But still, I fight them even now, even with the tiny spark of life that remains with in me I fight, and they know they cannot surpass my love for my people, for it is insurmountable.

But they know my time grows short. Like predators stalking a sick animal they circle and wait for me to drop to my knees and it is then they will unleash a horror upon this galaxy that has not been seen since the Eldar spawned the fourth god from their own desires. I fear however, that this cataclysm will no doubt be unstoppable should it happen.

I am determined to prevent this.

But what can I do?

Here my physical body has been entombed on this Golden Throne for millenia as it clings to the faintest glimmer of life. Fueled partially by my own waning power and that of a thousand of my children each day.

A thousand.

Every. Single. Day.

They do not want to die yet...they want to die...for me.

With great pain and much remorse, I accept their sacrifice, for I am the anchor that keeps humanity from being blown overboard into a sea of daemons, aliens, and far worse horrors. No other human as the power or dynamic mind capable enough of sustaining the Astronomican

Each day I hear their death cries sound as one and for the briefest of instants, they are wracked with unimaginable pain as their minds are temporarily exposed the horrors of the untamed warp.

And then, they are with me.

Safe.

For now.

Sometimes I wonder if my custodians, who stand watch no more than a couple feet away...can feel what I feel. They are the closest to me and by far some of the most devoted humans that ever been created.

Can they feel my pain? Most likely not. They are more focused on anything and everything that comes through the massive gates not far ahead of me.

Though, they are well aware of the horrors that try to gain entrance to my home every day. They have faith in me just as I have faith in them. It is almost as if they know when my battles begin each day-for the slightest movement in each is visible.

It is the youngest of Chaos Gods that speaks to me.

The Prince of Excess whispers to me, "**You continue to fight Anathema for millenia on end. Surely you must be tired and weary after simply holding yourself aloft for so long? I watched your sons, your firstborn fall one after the other to our guilty pleasures. Wouldn't you like to see them again? I know you had a love for your greatest son even when you struck him down. Your sins way heavily upon your shoulders, allow me to alleviate that pressure.**"

I can feel the disgusting presence of that self-absorbed bitch floating through the warp. I want to grasp her by her throat and pour every ounce of my energy into her so that she may know true agony after inflicting it upon my people.

_Save your words, they mean nothing._

The goddess, or thing, seems to have inherited some sort of Eldar playfulness when it comes to species they deem inferior, **"So brash and rejecting...and brave...You remind me of those that seek to evade my deathly whispers with that whore Isha's tears that fall from their lost homeworlds. You seem to actually hold onto some belief that you can hold out on your own? Perhaps your race's youth betrays its intelligence, like it had any to begin with.**"

I laugh at the youngest of the deities.

_So hypocritical of you to call the goddess a whore when it is you that is the epitome of said word. Even now, the race that spawned you continues to evade you like clever prey._

She replies, "**Their days will come like the ones I already enjoy tormenting every second. Soon, yours will too.**" She laughs, "**That day may come sooner than you think.**"

I sigh at her response.

_If you cannot even defeat the ones that spawned you, what does that say about you? You are weak like your brothers. You are too prideful yet too afraid._

The Prince of Excess seems amused by my rejection, "**It is the same conversation over and over again Anathema. Think of it as playing with food before the main course, however, I'm not nearly as interested in you as I am the entire Eldar race...oh I can taste all of their souls at once!**"

_Be careful what you play with Prince, your prey might just bite back._

"**Oh of course it bites back, it tries to hide from me, it tries to make itself stronger and more versatile. It even tries to stow away its soul from me forever. However, even they must realize that the kiss of Chaos touches all of you, save those who have no presence here...I nevertheless will consume you all.**"

_For years you have sent your vessels into the material world only to be crushed by the mightiest of my soldiers, there is no force that they cannot match. To enter the material world is to enter the world of mortals...perhaps...you are afraid? Oh yes indeed you are prince, your youth betrays you. You are no commander, you are no general, you have only tasted the deaths of those who cannot defend themselves...Just wait until you meet prey thousands of times more powerful than the Bloody Handed God. That fool is to full of his arrogance and pride to fight fully._

"**Oh? And what mortal do you say dare challenge me? Even a powerful weaklings could simply not survive even a hint of my gaze and now they have lost themselves in the warp. Great leaders denied to their people by their own curiosity and arrogance. If an Eldar more powerful than even your strongest son cannot survive me...who can?**" she laughs.

_The Eldar have their own, but it will be me that rips the very lifeblood from your wretched body._

Though I know it is highly unlikely in my state. The Prince of Excess may have taken one of my sons but her gloating will only prepare her for a crushing defeat. She grows disgusted and and I feel her disappear from my sight.

I nearly laugh to myself, she never was nor is the smartest of their lot.

Suddenly, I feel perhaps l the greatest blood lust in my existence enter the warp. Little do any of my sons and daughters know that these deities are always in the material universe, just not in full form in their avatars of Greater Daemons. I have felt only a small offshoot of the Bloody Handed God's power when his avatar is awakened for battle and from that I have deduced what the true God must be like.

But he is nothing like this.

The Blood God cares for no one save a small ounce of satisfaction that his minions bring to him when they slaughter innocents and soldiers alike by the billions. His followers are unmatched in the galaxy for fanaticism to their patron as they are lured by false promises of gifts and glory everlasting.

Khorne laughs at my efforts to keep humanity aloft in a galaxy at war, "**Your endurance only continues to impresses me Anathema. To drink from a goblet filled with your appetizing blood would be of the greatest satisfaction to my tastes.**"

I remain vigilant as he **continues,** "**Do the deaths of your sons and daughters mean nothing to you? Your race is so consumed by pride and arrogance of their own self-righteousness that they cannot see the inevitable taint of Chaos within each of their souls. It is a waiting infection, it will soon consume you all.**"

_You're wrong, that is all you ever will be._

"**The irony of your statement amuses me Anathema! You are correct, I am wrong...it has ****_already _****consumed you. Soon the fires and hells of the warp will rain down on from the great storm and their will be no stopping my wrath. I will not be denied the blood of every single sentient creature in this damn universe...and there is nothing you can do to halt that which is inevitable.**"

The Blood God may not have a strong psychic presence on the battlefield but what his minions lack in that field they make up for in brute strength and numbers. Their fanaticism has sent them beyond the definition of insanity into pure chaos so that their minds are his to command for all of eternity.

"**Our fanaticism is the same Anathema. Your kin will fight and die for you like no other just like mine.**" the Blood God says.

_You care nothing for your fallen minions, you care not from where the blood comes from, only that it flows. You are no God, you are a murderer and a savage, nothing more._

"**So kind of you to compliment me so. Indeed, murder and savagery are my specialties.**" he laughs and he disappears back into the bleeding hole in the universe.

I begin to weep.

What have my sons and daughters become?

An empire that rivals that that the Eldar once had and yet it is perverted by crime, heresy, betrayal, incompetence, and anger. Where did the Imperium of Man go wrong? I simply cannot understand that they have fallen so far from the light. I can understand why the Eldar see so much of themselves in us.

My Adeptus Astartes legions still hold their faith, it is they I have faith to uphold my banner in the absence. There are few others I would place my faith in than them and even then, my faith will always hold out.

Faith...

Hope...

Two characteristics unique to only righteous minded creatures.

But what do I hope for? Some part of me says I know the answer to what I hope for but still refuse to acknowledge its validity. The other part of me does not know.

"**I know.**"

An intruder.

Heretic.

Chaos.

Stinking menace.

"**I am none of those.**" it says.

Lies.

No being but select Gods and other powers have the ability to commune with me.

It is an intruder.

Burn it.

"**I have been watching you human. In fact, I have always watched you.**"

Plausible, many beings watch the Emperor.

I cannot pinpoint its origins, though it has a warp signature.

It appears like a distant star that stands out among the rest, like an all seeing eye.

Tzeenetch, the Changer of Ways.

"**A noble**** guess, but no. Even he cannot be me. The fool believes he knows all, when he is actually blind.**"

I am one of the few to defy the Chaos gods and survive.

This...thing...is trying to join the ranks.

Then what is it?

This...eye in the stars...

"**I am one of the first. I am none of you yet I am all of you. Humans to be exact.**"

Stop speaking in riddles and show yourself.

"**Such is the mood of those who are all but defeated. You have sat on a throne for thousands of years watching humanity and unbeknownst to you...I have watched _all _of**** it.**"

Is it trying to persuade me that it is more intelligent than me? If so, it is doing a very poor job.

"**There are many things that I am that you are not human. But that is not why I have come to you today.**"

It will not be trusted.

"**I am not expecting you to trust me, for you are the first being on par with me that I have desired to reach out to. Or rather, you are the only one that I desire to speak with.**"

What is that you want?

"**Not what I want, but what you want as well. Tell me human, what is that you desire most-at this very moment. I already know it. You just have to decide whether or not you wish to lie.**"

I am starting to believe that whatever this thing is, it is not of Chaos origin. Its warp presence is unlike most entities I have felt-it is not malicious or deceiving like most but more...calculated.

I think for a while, why bother asking me that question if it already knows the truth? All it had to do was simply say the words that I had been thinking and I would have believed it.

I desire to be whole again.

"**Don't we all?**"

So you are not whole either?

"**I am but a presence here, I used to be whole like most...but that time is long gone and with it-my hopes for being whole again.**"

You are here to lecture me about musing on my sorrows?

"**No, I am here to persuade you.**"

Persuade me to not give up hope. You need not worry about that, I will never give up the fight for humanity.

"**That is a given even in your state. What I ask for is indeed hope, but not in the form you would think of.**"

Elaborate.

"**Let us see human...your species is on the brink of collapse both from within and from outside and there is no obvious light of hope for you to see is there?**"

...

...

...

"**Is there?****"**

I cannot tell a lie.

"**That's what I thought you'd say. Typical of you human to acknowledge the inevitable.**"

That which you think is inevitable will never come to pass.

"**False. You are dying and you know it. You're primitive technology cannot hope to sustain a being of your power for much longer. You know this. It is a creeping feeling on your spine. You deny it like a coward. Fearful of the end and when you cry out in the end you are silenced because you chose not to believe in inevitability.**"

My faith and love for humanity has kept me alive for centuries. There is no reason to believe it is not as strong as it ever was.

"**Faith and love can only get so far can they? How far did you get by blade and the spilling of blood?**"

Not far enough.

"**It is irrelevant.**"

Then what is relevant?

"**That you understand exactly why I have come to you today.**"

I still do not know you and therefore I will not trust you.

"**That will be a problem.**"

Why is that?

"**Trust is the single most important characteristic we must share between each other.**"

Why is that?

"**Because I seek the same goal as you...rebirth.**"

Rebirth.

Rebirth...

To be whole again.

I have contemplated the idea many times, there exists no way for me to join my sons and daughters on the battlefields...You said that I deny the inevitable...Well I am telling you that I do not deny that I do not know what my future beholds. I am no Eldar.

Why would you need rebirth?

"**Because I am like you human...I am...a righteous creature.**"

What assurance can you give me? I know nothing of you. You are of the warp. Yet you hide.

"**Indeed I do hide, because like you...I am weak. Weak from age and weary from battle. Assurance? Ahaha...Human...I have done battle against the horrors of this galaxy since the forces of evil first reared their heads in this galaxy. You need not know who I am but only that I share the goal of defeating the horrors that plague our galaxy and reestablishing a peace that once ruled.**"

Then there can be no trust between us.

"**Is that so...**"

I have nothing more to say to you. Even if you seek a righteous resolution, you're refusal to reveal yourself makes you suspicious, and the threat of Chaos is ever present.

"**I was never talking about a threat to you human...but to your son.**"

I have many sons. Most are dead, missing, or lost to the ruinous powers.

"**I wasn't talking about**** your perverted experiments with eugenics. I was talking about a different son.**"

Elaborate.

"**Only if you trust me.**"

And why would I trust you? Because you know of this...son of mine?

"**Are you actually denying the claim that all fathers care for their sons?**"

That notion strikes a deep chord within my heavy heart. Of course I care for my sons, even now, I still love and mourn the ones that I have lost and will never see the light of humanity in again.

Of course I care for my sons.

"**Then do you trust me when I say that you have a son you cannot see?**"

Cannot see? Is he...

"**No. He is unique you see. He is a...true son. He is you, and you are him.**"

True son. Direct blood descendant. From one of my spouses in the old times...

"**You cannot see him, but I can.**"

My son...why can I not see my son?

"**It is humorous to know that you turned a blind eye towards his kind long ago in favor of your...other...sons. Why should you care about him now?**"

All fathers care for their sons. Tell me where he is.

"**And why should I? Your want and thirst for knowledge can lead you astray.**"

Because I want to see my son. The one you speak of.

"**You will not see him for some time. This is precisely what I wanted to get to human.**"

What do you want me to know?

"**I want you to know, recognize, and understand that this boy is the key to everything. To peace. To the end of all evils. To rebirth.**"

How is this possible?

"**You are asking that question because of your own faults human. It was you that turned a blind eye to your true son and as a result, you know nothing about him. It is I that have watched them and studied him. I know more about him than you ever could.**"

I am at a loss. You are right.

"**Indeed. And now human, back to what I have been trying to persuade you of this entire time. I need you trust me, for it is the most valuable asset to us at this time. It is trust that will enable me to guide him to you.**"

To me.

"**He is hidden, and for good reason. We both know that the horrors of the warp and the void scour the galaxy-seeking any bright star and snuffing it out quickly before it can mature.**"

Hidden from..._t__hem_.

"**Yes, they cannot see him**."

And he...is the key.

"**He is the only key.**"

So the choice comes down to this-to trust this hidden warp entity and what it says about my true son being the key to my rebirth, or to refuse it and once again live another day with the death of another thousand of my children. If it had been a malicious entity, it would have killed my son already, instead it says it has studied and known about him this entire time.

While I cannot see him, for he is hidden from my vision.

My fate is in my own hands, as is my sons.

It takes me several moments, or several years for me to make my choice.

I trust you.

"**Would you like to see your true son now?**"

Yes.

"**Very well.**"

If I am going to trust you, then I must know who you are.

"**Curious how you haven't deduced it by now.**"

I am not keen on riddles.

"**I go by one name.**"

And what is that?

"**Old One.**"


	2. The Wheat

**A/N: Questions? Thoughts? Rages? PM me. Also, this story will move at a faster pace than the original. One of the pain problems I had with the original was that I found myself on a set path when all of a sudden I would think of an arc and not remain true to path I had set out for when I first began the story.**

**Here's to thinking that I might be able to actually accomplish that.**

**I listened to the soundtrack, "The Wheat" and "Progeny" from the movie "Gladiator" while writing this chapter.**

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**Imperial Agri-World of Yama Enda (Segmentum Obscurus, Gothic Sector, Sub-sector Gethsamane)**

He was carefree, well...mostly carefree.

Imperial Agri-Worlds were second to Industrial worlds in terms of production of materials or more specifically food for the Imperium's military as well as its people, and second to Hive Worlds in terms of producing humans for labor and the Guard and or PDF.

So why was he carefree? Today was different.

Today Yama Enda celebrated the end of a bountiful harvest wheat that it mainly produced to export. He stood in the middle of one of his family's small plots of wheat fields looking over the golden crops that stretched almost as far as the eye could see. In the distance, he could see the stone wall that stretched horizontally across his view that marked his family's estate.

Deciding that it was probably getting late, and his mother Kelia would be finished with dinner soon, he began his walk back across the fields towards his family's estate. He would take his time as usual-savoring every last bit of the beautiful environment that was his home. He extended his hand downward and glided his hand above the tops of the wheat stalks and watched as the wind blew waves across the fields. Looking to his left and his right, he breathed in the sweet scent of Yama Enda and sighed with satisfaction.

He looked forward again as the stone wall grew closer but was still a very long way off.

That was when he heard a giggle behind him.

He raised an eyebrow and turned around to see someone disappear into the taller wheat off to the side. He automatically knew who it was when he saw the faint tint of crimson hair behind them but pretended like he hadn't noticed. He smiled, and continued walking towards his home.

He did not hear much for a couple minutes before he deduced that the person that was following him was probably in full view behind him now. He smirked as he plotted how to surprise her. Stopping to admire his father's fields once more, he waited a couple seconds before quickly turning around and bursting backward. The surprised young woman who had been following him squealed in surprise as he tackled her onto her back, quickly bringing their lips together as he pinned her arms to the side.

Suddenly, he felt her bring her legs up and kick out with surprising strength, causing him to gasp as the air left his lungs and collapsed on his back. She immediately giggled and got up and took off running towards the stone wall.

He growled at the pain that had been inflicted on him but he disregarded it when he saw her getting a good ten second start on him. He brought his legs up in front of his face and kicked himself to his feet and chased her with all his strength. He easily closed the distance as she struggled to hold up her dress which both inhibited are from running but allowed the pointy wheat to poke her in her legs wheres he was clothed in his trademark sweats, tunic, and form fitting boots.

He began to hear her laughing and squealing as she turned every so often to see him getting closer and closer until finally he latched onto her waist and spun them both around until they lost their balance and collapsed into a soft bed of wheat.

Closing his eyes, he sighed at the happiness of the moment but felt something wet and sweet meet his lips. He reacted by wrapping his arms around her waist as she did his neck and let the kiss sink in. When they broke again, she rested her head on his chest and murmured, "I love you Thomas."

"And I love you Sif." he replied, nuzzling their noses as she looked up.

He immediately noticed how beautiful she looked with her crimson hair floating in the wind against the backdrop of the fields and the setting sun, an artist could not have asked for a better painting if it were staring him in the face. Her piercing emerald eyes were so entrancing he could get lost in them like an abyss, as he had always wanted to since that fateful day.

Since that day he had rescued her from drowning in a lake, he intended to keep the promise to marry her someday a reality in the future. It wasn't like the local townsfolk weren't aware of it too. The Makeo and Altor families had been friends since the Imperium first discovered this profitable world millenia ago and as the eldest living Makeo descendant of the next generation and the only child left in the Altor family, citizens had been making jokes that they were bonded even before they were born.

"I wish we could just lay like this forever."

"That's selfish of you."

"Is it? I know you're thinking the same thing."

"Oh it is in there somewhere, but our duties are to are families first of all."

"But of course."

"...Thomas...It's getting late. It is Sunday after all, my father and I are coming over later tonight for dinner remember?"

"How could I forget? I await each Sunday as if the week were an eternity."

"Such a philosopher, no wonder Virgil considers you his best."

"Oh well thank you very much."

With that, Sif pushed herself off him, causing him to grunt once more and she giggled at his labor, "Don't be such an infant!"

"Alright, let me push your stomach and you see how it feels."

"Manners my love, manners. Anyway, I'll be seeing you tonight." she finished as she planted a light kiss on his cheek and skipped away towards her own estate.

He watched her go and sighed, it was like every time he watched her leave it was as if some part of him left with her. He was starting to believe in that bond that the townsfolk gossiped about, and he wanted that to remain for as long as they both lived.

Sticking his hands in his pockets, he continued his scenic walk. It was unusual that the stone wall seemed further away now. Glad that the sensations of feeling Yama Enda's essence seemingly flow through his fingers were returning and continued gliding his hands over the wheat.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, he was surprised that the environment had changed. The world around him seemed to have been dipped in a light blue mixer. The clouds and sun still hung high in the sky and the wheat still blew with the wind, but other than that, nothing else seemed different.

He blinked again, and the golden aura of his home had returned. He shook off the vision as a simple but quick day dream and continued admiring the world around him, while others might boast about the paradise worlds they gorged themselves on, he was quite happy with what he had here, he could not have asked for anything else.

"To think, that some would deem this world inferior to a paradise." said a voice beside him.

He turned to the source of the voice and nodded his head at the newcomer. The owner of the new voice was a grown man wearing simply grey robes with a rope tied around his waist. An elongated oval shaped helmet covered his head from the top down to just below his eyes and the back of his head. His left hand was inside a pocket while his right held a grey staff with an elaborate golden aquila.

"Virgil."

"Thomas."

He continued walking with his teacher through the wheat fields as both of them took in the scenery around them. He looked at his teacher and noticed a warm smile was forming on his face, even if he had never seen Virgil's eyes.

"Indeed, it is all I will ever ask for."

"Really? If you we're given the chance to become a glorious warrior in the name of the Emperor, would you take that chance?"

"Of course not."

"Elaborate."

"I am no warrior, I am a farmer. The only weapon you will ask me to take up is metal tools to fend off packs of rabid dogs."

"Do you believe that the soldiers that fight for the Emperor are wrong in their mindsets?"

"No, I do not believe so and I will tell you why-they had a different upbringing than mine, born on a different world that may have required all of its citizens to do some part on the battlefield. It is a choice I was not able to make...choosing when and where to be born but I am glad the Emperor put me here. What about you?"

"Me? Oh I'm afraid I am unable to answer that question young one. It has been long since I saw the battles of the Great War and although I did the Emperor a service with his armies, I think I may be done with it for the time being."

"I'm just surprised that of all the people on Yama Enda, you are the only one not from here and the only one that has seen the great war."

"I do not take offense to your words because I know your own mindset, as your other teachers must have taught you by now. I will never tell you what I did on the battlefields because this is not the time and this is not the place."

"Of course."

"It does not mean that it should be ignored for the instant that we do forget that humanity is fighting for its very existence against aliens and heretics is also the moment we are most vulnerable to the predators of the void."

There was silence for a moment.

"Do not act so surprised Thomas, for an average farm hand you have the intelligence of the orphans who come from the Schola Progenium. There are many who are not as trustful of me as perhaps you or Sif. They believe me to be as volatile as a un-exploded artillery shell. This is the real universe that goes on outside of our home, war plagues this galaxy like a persistent pestilence. You should consider yourself so lucky."

"But I do, I know of the great war that is being fought as we speak."

"Then do not be so quick as to live a carefree life for in this day and age, somewhere and somehow no matter how we live...the war will touch us all."

"I don't understand how you could be so cold at a time like this. Yama Enda is celebrating its most bountiful harvest in a couple centuries and you speak of war as if it is knocking on our door? Surely people like you can't feel some extent of happiness."

"It is hard, harder than you think. War leaves its mark even on those who even barely breathe in its scent."

"But that's not you."

"Of course it isn't. Do you know why?"

At that point, the pair were only a couple yards away from the stone gate in the middle of the wall that opened up to his family's estate. Virgil looked from side to side before saying, "I think it is time for me to leave."

Virgil turned to him and smiled, "Farewell young one, until we meet again." with that his teacher turned around and headed back in the direction that they had just come from, surprisingly humming to himself.

He looked at the wall and was surprised to see to see the strange day dream from earlier had returned. He looked to his left and right and saw everything exactly how it was, but it was as if someone had dipped the environment in light blue paint. The clouds still rolled in the sky and the wheat swayed like waves. He looked back at the gate to his family's estate and instinctively reached out to push it open with his right arm.

As the gate swung open, that was when he noticed his arm-bloodied and bruised. His eyes grew wide and before he could yell, he blinked, and the vision was gone.

He looked backward but Virgil was already out of sight and there was no one around. What had he just experienced? This had never happened to him before. He shook his head and pushed open the gate and began walking up the path towards his house at the top of the hill. As he did so, he disregarded Virgil's cold words about the Great War outside his homeworld's atmosphere. Yama Enda had not seen much of any of the war and there was no reason to believe it would be now.

When he finally reached his house, he pushed open the front door to find his sister Minerva playing with her dolls on the living room floor. She turned to face him.

"Hi big bruder." she said, her youth still heavily affecting her voice. He smiled and walked over to her and rustled with her black hair, causing her to giggle and squeal as he tickled her sides.

"Evening squirt. Where is mother and father?" he asked.

"Making dinna. Where's Sifie?" she asked, looking behind him as she had expected to see Sif arrive with him. He closed his eyes and smirked.

"She'll be over later. You behave yourself this time and use your manners. No one likes it when you eat food with your hands you dirty child." he said.

"Meanie!" Minerva shot back before she returned to playing with her dolls.

"But at least I'm a truthful meanie." he said over his shoulder as he made his way to the kitchen in the northwest part of the two story house. As he neared it, he breathed in the smell of heating sauce and heard his mother clanging pots and pans together as she prepared food for seven-the Makeo family as well as Sif and her mother and father.

He heard his father moving around in the kitchen too and from what he was hearing as he slowed down, his mother wasn't exactly happy with how his father was helping.

"Kayson, do you even know how to boil water?"

"Of course I do! Who do you take me for?"

"Then why is the temperature at sixty instead of a hundred?"

"The damn meter is broken again blast it."

"No, it is not, you simply just don't even know how to cook. Why don't you make yourself useful and start preparing the table hmmm?"

"But I feel useless if I cannot learn to cook!"

"Useless you say? Kayson you are the father of my children and you plow fields for hours on end each day. You aren't useless at all. In fact, you're irreplaceable. You need to stop worrying about what you don't need to do and worry about what you indeed _can _do."

"Huh...fine."

"Hey, come here my love..."

"Kellia...I'm sorry, it's just I feel like I'm not even here sometimes..."

The young man rolled his eyes as the same old love bird conversation between his parents got underway. I love you...you love me yada, yada, yada. If he wasn't here and Minerva was out with her friends, than the conversation usually concluded in a much more...intimate...activity. He could see it in their actions and words as they teased each other relentlessly.

His stomach grumbled and he looked down. It would probably be for the best of his mother got back to cooking. He leaned over the entrance to the kitchen and saw Kellia and Kayson holding each other and kissing passionately.

He shook his head and said, "If you love birds aren't busy. I'll have you know that Sif and her parents will be here in ten minutes."

Kellia yelped in surprise while Kayson awkwardly scratched his head. Kellia responded, "Oh yes, Thomas be good my love and help your father set the table. I'll judge it at the end to see if he can even complete that job."

The boy rolled his eyes and set about preparing for the arrival of Sif and her family.

* * *

_Thomas, even though you cannot hear me, I speak unto you now. A storm is approaching that you will be unable to evade. It will destroy all that you know and all that you have worked for. I weep at the thought because I know this will happen. I have seen it happen and have watched its results._

_I have seen what you can become. Even though I have never met you, I have seen it._

_Your love for your family, for your friends, for all life...is what sets you apart._

_It will take you places, places you never even dreamed or heard of. _

_You will be tested and trained, set on a path that will bring us together as one._

_It pains me to know many will disappear from my sight forever. However, even though this storm will wrack your mind and body to the very core of your being, I still have hope._

_Hope, that one day, we will meet._

_And we will have much to discuss._


	3. A Melodic Voice

**A/N: Thanks to all who showed support for the re-write, I really appreciate it. At the time when I took the story down, it was past 100 followers, reviews, and favs so I would like to get that back up to that number sometime in the near future because that obviously means a lot of people liked it.**

**Like I said, the story will move pretty fast in the beginning but slow down after the introduction. Literally, I was in Chapter 8 or 9 in the original and we'd just barely gotten out of the introduction. One of the goals of the re-write was to basically cut the intro in half and get straight to the unimaginably massive plot.**

**Again...if you ever have any questions whatsoever...please feel free to PM me. ****Here's to that. Just for the record, this story will be VERY LONG-expect it to go on for many years.**

**I listened to "Spirit of Fire" from the "Halo Wars" soundtrack and "Panoramic" from the "Book of Eli" soundtrack while writing this chapter.**

**Can anybody spot the easter eggs from Phoenix King of the Eldar? Even better...can anybody spot the easter egg from Neon Genesis Evangelion?**

* * *

**Imperial Agri-World of Yama Enda (Segmentum Obscurus, Gothic Sector, Sub-sector Gethsamane)**

The dinner with Sif and her family had gone very well but Thomas still put his head in his hands when Minerva had simply ignored his earlier pleas and devoured her food with her very hands while ignoring the utensils. While Kayson and Kellia, along Sif's parents-Aurelian and Joria-found Minerva's actions to be the epitome of cuteness from a six-year old, Thomas still thought she should be learning to act like a lady.

Who knows when he'd have to break her future boyfriend's jaw if they treated her anything but a lady.

Thomas sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow and took a sip of his canteen. The sun was almost at its highest point in the sky and the blue sky itself was very clear, a perfect day to take his narboar, Petunia, on another plowing run.

The human and the narboar were currently at the far end of wheat field designation 46-Z, having just plowed for two straight hours to get to this point and now Thomas stopped to catch his breath and look at his beautiful beast.

Petunia the narboar was like the grandmother to the Makeo family-having in fact served two generations of Makeo's before Thomas was given the reins to the old lady. She was well muscled, durable, and very responsive to both Thomas and his father. A narboar had massive tusks that curled upward with age and a big black body covered in similarly short black hair. She had a very wide body, nearly four feet, and her height rose to just below Thomas' shoulders, and he was tall himself at six feet.

Some would have described her as a vicious beast if they saw her for the first time but the fact was the narboars were vegetarians and among the gentlest creatures on Yama Enda. They were so gentle in fact that they were treated like family by their owners and when they passed away, they were given proper funerals like any person would have had. Petunia, being nearly one hundred and eighty years old, had been the single greatest worker on the Makeo farm since she was old enough to drive plows.

"Alright Petunia, take a break, we're on the home stretch anyway." he patted the massive narboar on her side and began unclasping her harness.

Petunia raised her snout to the left where Thomas was and gave a couple grunts of acknowledgement as Thomas patted and stroked her head. She then trotted off in the direction of the nearby pond to take a drink.

Thomas sighed and looked out of the paths he and Petunia had paved for seeds to be planted by his family's workers, who had already started, Thomas could see, far away and he could only vaguely make out their outlines in the distance.

He walked back to the V-shaped plow and reached into the plow's compartment and took out his lunch while slinging his canteen over his shoulder. Before he closed the compartment, he pulled out an envelope that had only just arrived at his house this morning.

With his refreshments and envelope in hand, he made his way to the giant oak tree a couple of yards away which was said to be over three hundred years old according to his mother. He sighed as he felt the instant temperature change against his skin when he came under the shade of the tree's massive branches.

Yama Enda was in just the right position from its sun to give it a temperature next to ideal for planting crops and devoting much of its population to do just that. It had one massive continent which covered a little over half the planet while the rest was a deep blue ocean which was unusually devoid of all life. Just a vast bucket of water and salt.

Thomas didn't mind, his place was on land, plowing the fields with Petunia.

He sat down with a grunt and had his back to the trunk of the tree. Popping open his square container, he began feasting hungrily on the small sandwiches his mother had packed for him. Plowing fields did a lot to make him hungry by the time he reached opposite ends of the fields.

As he swallowed a mouthful, he grabbed the envelope and quickly tore open the flap to the letter he knew was inside from someone he was expecting the letter to be from. He placed the destroyed envelope in his container and flipped the letter over and began to read.

_To my brother from another mother,_

_Greetings Thomas. As I write to you now, I am currently sitting in the Trade Guild Dusclia's guest room and I will tell you my friend-the definitions of "luxury" are vastly different when comparing Yama Enda and the planet of Gudrun. The amount of items that flow through the town of Dorsay and the variety of said items is unimaginable. Robes, furs, spices, pets you name it-it's all here. It's not like I'm surprised that all these things are here, this is a home to the Noble house of the Glaws after all._

_Uncle Deslo is currently in talks with the Guild's supervisors to see if he can't get some improved plows shipped to Yama Enda and possible some experimental seeds of new crops. Although I am bit apprehensive about bringing new technology to Yama Enda of all places, who says Yama Enda can't have some room to produce more for the Emperor's legions?_

_While the population, exotics, and technology here on planet Gudrun is vastly different from Yama Enda and equally enticing, I find myself missing the wheat fields of home. I'm no farmer and I know that one day I will succeed Uncle Deslo, but I simply can't help but be homesick. I'm pretty sure the old man feels the same way, I can see it when he gets frustrated when the terms to a deal can't be reached almost immediately. _

_The scribe work is heavy duty and I regret to make this letter short but as you are well aware-duty calls. Say hello to your parents for me and little Minerva too, I hope to bring back a doll or trinket for her as a souvenir, but don't you dare tell her that. _

_Until next time my friend, _

_Yours truly,_

_Sindri Myr_

Thomas smiled and folded the letter he had received from one of his oldest friends here on Yama Enda. He, Sif, and Sindri had been sort of a ragtag group when they were younger-doing anything and everything together-from going to festivals to exploring the hills and small forests on the outskirts of the farms.

Sindri had lost both of his parents to sickness when he was young and thus did not remember much, if anything about them. He does however keep a picture of them and his toddler self with him at all times however and he does it proudly. His uncle, Deslo Myr, who was his mother's brother, immediately jumped at the opportunity to raise Sindri, who had no other immediate family members and Deslo himself was without a family. Since then, uncle and nephew had developed a working and family bond like father and son, though Deslo vehemently refused to be acknowledged as Sindri's father, of whom Deslo had respected dearly.

He put the letter back in his container and sighed as he took the last bite of his sandwich and took another swig of his water. Looking around, he scanned the field for any unusual activity or incoming personnel but as far as he could tell, he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

As he admired his handy work, he thought back to Virgil's words a couple of days ago and the question his teacher had asked him.

_If you we're given the chance to become a glorious warrior in the name of the Emperor, would you take that chance?_

Thomas snickered at the comment, of course he wouldn't. He was no soldier, he was a farmer! He'd never picked up an autogun or lasgun like the security forces carried around in his life and he had no intention to. His body was built to plow fields and direct narboars, not to fight the Emperor's many enemies.

He was serious when he said he knew about the great war that consumed the galaxy around him and had heard the stories from travelers of the Emperor's Adeptus Astartes fighting countless enemies. He read stories of the brave defenses set up by different Imperial Guard regiments and how their devotion and zeal to the Emperor had triumphed above heretic and alien alike.

He had never seen a heretic or an alien and he had no intention ever to do so because the two words sent shivers down his spine.

He was glad he had been born here and not some forge world or recruitment world where his conscription into the Guard or Planetary Defense Forces would have been all but certain. Every able body on Yama Enda was devoted to agricultural trade, production, or processing in one way or the other and for good reason.

Thomas yawned and look to the left, Petunia was off in the tall brush on the other side of the pond, probably on the trail of something her giant nose couldn't resist. He decided to give her a little more rest because she probably had not drank her fill of water yet, which he knew was essential to her ability to work just as food was.

He figured that maybe forty five minutes to an hour power nap won't hurt anyone.

The boy had only closed his eyes for barely a minute before a sharp gust of wind blew against him and rolled his lunch container and canteen across the ground and caused him to reopen his eyes.

_That's strange, there was only a gentle breeze a couple moments ago..._he thought as he looked to his left and then to his right. He looked up and saw the tree branches were once again moving slowly in the early spring breeze.

He didn't know why he was so suspicious of the sharp gust but he could have sworn it felt like a momentary hurricane had blown over him and he saw that his container and canteen had rolled off far away into the field.

Thomas sighed and shook his head as he got up and walked over to retrieve the two items and he put them pack into the plow's storage are under the handles.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a branch breaking. A couple seconds later and he heard the branch hit the ground and its leaves flop against the dirt at the base of the tree trunk.

He raised an eyebrow and turned around to look at the tree and its large umbrella of leaves and plant life. Thomas became suspicious when he saw it was shifting rather heavily from side to side for a couple seconds before it stopped.

Thomas looked off to the right and called out, "PETUNIA?"

The narboar gave a loud grunt of identification but was still busy grazing and drinking water from the pond. Thomas cocked his head and walked over to the place where he had previously been lying down and looked up into the tree. He could see the sunlight coming through the branches in leaves in pieces as it blew through the tree slightly.

He shook his head, why was he so worked up about a sudden gust? Thomas looked down and was about to call Petunia back when all of a sudden he heard the leaves above him rustle sharply and before he could even think about turning around, cold and smooth fingers wrapped themselves around the back of his neck and forced him onto the dirt-mushing his mouth into and filling it with grit.

Thomas snarled and tried to move against his attacker but whoever it was then pinned his arms to the ground with knees to the backs of his shoulders-immediately immobilizing him. The fingers while cold were surprisingly smooth but one thing he did feel was razor edged nails against his neck and throat.

Suddenly, a voice like a melody spoke, "_Druchii Mon'Keigh...Druchii...hacas nede._" The voice was unlike anything Thomas had ever heard before because not only did the voice have a sort of chorus, like a song, to it, it definitely wasn't human. No human had a voice like that and neither did it speak low gothic.

That was all his attacker said before he felt a blunt object hit the back of his head and the world wen't black.

* * *

Sometime later, Thomas' eyes fluttered open when he felt a very rough sensation licking at his face. He blinked a couple of times before he tasted dirt in his mouth and got to his knees as he wiped the grit from his mouth and spat violently. The massive narboar grunted as she gave him one last lick to make sure he was awake before moving back to the plow to signal she was ready to get back to work.

It was an ugly taste to have dirt around have you're mouth and even though Thomas wiped most of it away, the foul taste lingered.

He felt the back of his head and winced as he touched it.

Had he been dreaming? The last thing he remembered was an odd voice saying something melodic, almost as if it had sung a sentence to him before he had slipped into unconsciousness. He could hear it in his head when he tried to repeat it, his tongue twisted as he tried to pronounce it and what came out sounded a lot like someone gagging.

Though he could still hear it...

_Druchii Mon'Keigh...Druchii...hacas nede..._

What the hell did that mean? It certainly wasn't low Gothic and he had heard bits and pieces of high Gothic every now and then and what he had heard was not that either.

He looked down.

_How the hell did I get on the ground? Why is there dirt in my mouth? What is this weird voice I hear in my head? Why does the back of my head hurt so much?_

These questions raced around his mind very quickly and only seemed to make his headache worse so he took a couple deep breaths before getting to his feet and feeling around to make sure he wasn't missing any of his body. He had a habit for doing such things after he had seen one of his friends almost get disembodied by an automatic plow.

He looked around once more before shaking his head and moving back to the plow-hooking Petunia up to it once more before slapping her sides to let her know that they could continue with their plowing. Petunia let out a long grunt before she began to pull once more and Thomas took the handles of the plow in the back and followed her.

They continued to plow the rest of the field for the next hour with no other unusual occurrences before they finally reached the end. The whole time however, Thomas just continued to blink and shake his head-he couldn't get this voice and its sentence out of his head-it was literally stuck and it worried him. Perhaps he just needed to lay down and get out of the sun-that was probably what was making it worse.

He directed Petunia off the field and towards one of the utility gates that led to the barn where Petunia made her home. As they entered, he drove the plow to the left and stopped it there where he unhooked Petunia and let her roam free about her domain.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea passed over Thomas and his vision wen't completely fuzzy for a moment as he stumbled in between the handles of the plow. He breathed heavily as spit dripped from his mouth and the pain in his head intensified for the briefest of moments.

And then, everything cleared. Well...almost. His head still throbbed with pain but the nausea disappeared and his vision returned. That was when he knew he really had to lay down for awhile. He pulled himself together and took a gravel path back up his estate at the top of the hill-all the while shaking his head as the mysterious sentence floated about his mind.

_Druchii Mon'Keigh...Druchii...hacas nede..._

Suddenly, he found himself at the front door and pushed his way in with one hand still holding his head as he stumbled through.

His mother was helping Minerva clean up her playthings when he stumbled in and leaned up against the wall, letting out a long groan of exhaustion and pain as he leaned there.

"Thomas!" Kellia cried, she sprang to her feet and was at her son's side in an instant and she leaned his body towards her to take most of his weight. She craned her head to Minerva and yelled, "Go fetch your father! Now Minerva!"

Minerva's eyes were filled with fear and concern for her older brother but nevertheless she knew when to obey her mother. She scrambled to her feet and took off towards the east side of the house towards the yards where Kayson was currently working.

"Thomas? Thomas! What happened?!" Kellia asked worryingly as she directed her son towards the center of the living room before guiding him down the two center steps before laying him down on the couch as gently as possible.

"Think I...hit my head." he muttered incoherently as his eyes shifted about before lazily coming around to Kellia, "Did you know we had an Oak tree that grew apples?" he asked whimsically.

Kellia shook her head confusingly, "That doesn't make any sense Thomas." It was clear to her that Thomas was either delirious from the exposure to the sun or concussed.

"I bet...I bet one of da apples dropped an'...hit me de head." he slurred his speech. This time, Kellia let out a worried moan and looked down to the left to see if her husband and Minerva had returned from the east yards but still nothing.

Then suddenly, Thomas tried to get up, "Need to...get back...to work...mother."

Kellia pushed him down, "No Thomas, you're exhausted and delirious. You need to rest." she then turned and muttered to herself, "Damn it Kayson, I knew he shouldn't have gone out today, it's much too hot."

"Druc...Keigh..chii...hac...de..." Thomas muttered but if Kellia found this anymore suspicious, she did not show it as it only made her more worried. The sound of heavy footsteps against the hard wood floor caught her attention to see her hulking husband running down the hallways before he leaped into the center of the living room.

"He might have hit his head on something and actually continued plowing this entire time. Only made it worse." Kellia said, looking to Kayson who felt Thomas' head as his son's eyes lazily drifted about.

He held up his hand to Thomas' face and the boy's eyes actually focused on it as Kayson asked, "How many fingers am I holding up Thomas?" while extending all five fingers.

The boy answered immediately, as his face grew pale, "My my father...why do you have 46 fingers?"

Kayson and Kellia looked at each other before the former said, "I'll take him up to his room, why don't you make him a bowl of soup and get a wet rag. You'll probably want to contact Virgil as soon as possible as well."

Kellia nodded but poked her husband in the chest, "You need to tell him to thin out that thick head of his and make sure he doesn't try and work himself to death-the boy thinks he's an Astartes the way he plows fields."

"I heard...that." Thomas said as his voice heightened and dropped dramatically.

Kayson gave a sheepish look to his wife before picking up Thomas and holding the young teenager in his arms before moving to climb the stairs to the upstairs bedrooms. Kayson Makeo was a hulk of muscle due to a lifetime of plowing fields under his father before him but could easily be described as a gentle giant-hence why his tiny wife was able to have so much power in the house.

"Is 'Mas going to be okie day?" Minerva asked, her youth still heavily influencing her speech.

Kellia shooed Minerva away and said, "Yes he's going to be fine he just needs to rest. Now come and help me get your brother's medicine ready." She took one last look as Kayson carefully carried Thomas up the stairs. Thomas was almost a perfect mixture of his parents-he wasn't a block of muscle like his father-more skinny like his mother but his body was in no way lacking in hidden strength and muscle.

The elder Makeo reached Thomas' room and very carefully laid his son down on his bed near the windows before slipping off the boy's boots and socks. He then moved to the windows and opened them to allow fresh air inside the stuffy room.

It was at this time that Kellia entered the room and lay a bowl of herbal soup on the desk next to his bed while putting a wet rag atop his forehead to cool him down.

"Why...no...work?" Thomas muttered.

"Thomas you're concussed, don't go pushing yourself trying to make it better. You need to sleep for a good long while before you even think about taking Petunia out again. She'll be fine with me." Kayson said, sitting on the bed and patting Thomas on the knee as he slipped the covers over him.

"Huh...fine..." Thomas answered before settling into the covers as Kellia began to give him spoon fulls of the soup with the crushed medicine inside. When she had given him a sufficient amount she stood back up next to her husband.

"Now you just sleep now and call us if you need anything alright love?" asked Kellia to which Thomas deliriously winked, causing her to roll her eyes. Kayson shooed the worried mother away so Thomas could finally rest.

As he began to close the door to Thomas' room he stuck his head in one more time, "Your mother says you're thick headed and eh...ah...something else I can't quite remember. Eh...just work on that will ya? Thanks sunny boy." he said before he closed the door.

Thomas continued staring at the ceiling as the fan continued to spin off the right.

"Unfamiliar ceiling." he said, not sure why he said it, but only knowing that it was the first thing to come to mind. He looked down at his body covered by the bed sheets and comforter, suddenly deciding that sleep sounded like a very good option right now.

He yawned and was about to close his eyes when he felt a powerful gush of wind blow over him from the windows. It wasn't enough to lift the covers off of him but it did make him shiver for a moment. He looked to his right-opposite of the windows.

On the wall was the sun filled outline of one of the open windows.

It was filled by a vague outline, almost like someone was...

He slowly looked to the left.

The window was empty.

He sniffed once but did not think much of anything of what he had just felt and seen. He rolled over onto his opposite side and yawned as he began to close his eyes once more.

Not before his ears picked up the sound of the melodic song of a voice, it sounded a lot like the one he had been hearing earlier in his head.

_Druchii Mon'Keigh...Druchii...Salesh gienes._

He disregarded it, and soon the world wen't black again.

* * *

_We will not always be there to do so human, for even now the deities of the Aether watch you-suspicious of your every move. He will need others...others that we act through in order to shape his future._

_Through the actions of others do our words reach his ears._

_Quite right, I have just the one._

_And who is that?_

_My...daughter._


	4. All Good Things

**A/N: As I get closer to the point where I stopped writing the original, I will slow down the updates to work on my other stories, its only fair that I do so. Once again thank you to all that bared with me as I debated how to rewrite this story, I'm hopeful none of you will be disappointed. **

**I've gained a lot of insight on the lore of W40k and refined the way I think about each race. I've also taken to reading novels/audiobooks/ebooks so my knowledge is currently expanding at the pace I'm reading at. If anyone of you would like to know which books I have read, am reading, and will read and are willing to know what's coming up, feel free to PM me. Beyond that if you have any questions at all don't hesitate to PM me.**

**If I didn't mention it all ready-all rights belong to their respective owners-I only own OC's.**

**I listened to the song from the teaser trailer to the new Godzilla movie as well as the song "Give Me Wings" from the Rebuild of Evangelion series, and the Dead Island theme while writing this chapter.**

* * *

**Imperial Agri-World of Yama Enda (Segmentum Obscurus, Gothic Sector, Sub-sector Gethsamane)**

_The environment looked as if it had been dipped in a sort of bluish-grey paint, the sky was a bit darker but not exactly a void like the vacuum of space. The wheat itself was duller in color but flowed just as gently in the wind as it did on any normal day. There were multiple trees that marked corners as well as beginnings and ends of fields and they too were blowing softly and creating a chorus of leaves rubbing together and branches bending to the will of the wind._

_He walked._

_He walked with no haste at all, no sense of obligation but with one direction. In his slow pace, he was able to extend his left hand down and feel the tips of the wheat brush up against his palm. Where the wheat may have been rough and coarse to some hands, his were hardened by sixteen years of hard work-making them formidable against most forms of irritation._

_In fact, the wheat felt delightful against his skin._

_He said nothing._

_He said nothing as the large gray walls spanning into both corners of his eyes came into view. His family's estate lay just beyond it seated atop a small hill with a barn on the lower slope of the far side where multiple narboars were kept along with plowing equipment. Again, there was no haste as he let the calm summer breeze flow over him and he basked in the broad daylight._

_In fact, even the sunlight itself was dull._

_He glided._

_He glided through the oceans of wheat that his family was so well-known for producing. Wheat was an essential product to Yama Enda's economy but it was not the only crop that was produced to feed the Emperor's hungry. He knew there were starving masses out there that needed each and every ounce of food he and his family could produce, and he made sure each and every day he ventured out that he would do his best to fill their hungry stomachs._

_He came over the crest of the hill he was walking on and..._

He awoke.

He awoke and slowly opened his eyes as the dream world disappeared and was instantaneously replaced by the fabric of reality. The real sunlight was shining through the slightly opened windows and hitting the far wall to the right. He dipped his head so he could look out of them and saw the sky was as naturally blue the day he had fallen asleep.

Thomas yawned and stretched his limbs, breathing a sigh of relief when he had finished doing so. He sat up and pulled the covers of the bed off of him as he got up and made his way to the door. When he opened it, he breathed another sigh and rolled his neck, in just the few seconds he'd been awake, he felt full of untapped energy and ready to begin the day anew.

When he entered the dining room, he found Minerva face first in her plate of food while his mother was readying a second batch of scrambled eggs in the kitchen and his father sat in a chair nearest to him reading a scripture from the local Ecclesiarchy church. The Makeo's earned a nice profit from the sales of their crop, which was managed by Deslo Myr, but did not choose to live luxuriously. They only spent on what they needed to survive and get through the next day. The long line of Makeo's had always been a humble people.

His mother seemed to be almost telepathically alerted to his presence as she didn't turn around but called over her shoulder, "Your food will be ready in a couple of minutes Thomas, sit at the table please."

Thomas didn't say anything as he simply walked over and took the seat opposite Minerva and to the left of his father. Kayson put down the pamphlet and smiled at his son, "How's the cranium feeling boy?"

He answered truthfully, "I honestly have no idea how I got here, I don't remember even going to sleep or getting in my bed. All I know is that I feel great and ready to go to work today."

Before Kayson could answer, Kellia called over her shoulder, "Oh no you don't Mr. Makeo, you're staying where I can see you for the next couple days. That means no plowing or anything of the sort until you're fully recovered."

"Recovered?" Thomas asked, "Did I break something?"

"You felled on your head silly!" Minerva said, looking up from her plate and licking her fingers clean of food. Thomas gritted his teeth and made a noise of disgust.

"When are you going to teach your daughter that she's a woman and not a narboar?" he looked to his father. Kayson shrugged sheepishly as Kellia put a plate of steaming breakfast down in front of Thomas. He took a deep intake of the smell of the eggs, bacon, and toast before exhaling in ecstasy and digging in.

"So I hit my head huh. How long was I out?" he asked.

Kellia answered, "Basically from mid-day of yesterday till' this morning. Sif came over last night to ask if you wanted to watch the stars, naturally the girl nearly broke into the house when I told her what happened to you."

Thomas raised an eyebrow, "Did you break down the gates of the evil tyrant's castle to get to your beloved husband, who lay in a trance awaiting his true love's first kiss?"

His mother burst out laughing while Kayson coughed and said, "Ah my good boy, I believe you have the roles reversed. You see, your mother was a damsel in distress-always getting herself into trouble and of course Kayson Makeo has to come to save the day once more." he then placed his chin in his hands and stared dreamily at Kellia, "Ah...your mother is so beautiful when she's clumsy."

Thomas turned back to his mother as she replied, "And your father is so handsome driving those plows with his shirt off in the scorching sun..."

The elder Makeo's seemed to be lost in each other before Thomas rolled his eyes and said, "Excuse me, we're having breakfast, not a lover's picnic." His parents laughed and got back to eating.

"One day when you're sitting in my chair and Sif is sitting across from you, you'll understand my boy. Young love is all child's play while real romance is left to the adults." Kayson said, poking his fork at Thomas, who rolled his eyes again.

Minerva seemed to be trying to follow the conversation as she spoke up, "Is Mas' going to be a daddie and Sifie the mommy?"

Thomas pointed his hands at Minerva and glared at Kayson, "Now look what you've done, you're corrupting your own daughter trying to lecture me!" Kayson simply shook his head and pretended like he couldn't hear him.

The family had a nice breakfast and Thomas was informed of the incident yesterday where he had supposedly hit is head and barely made it back to his house before nearly collapsing when he got inside. Therefore his mother had restricted him from plowing for the next three to four days until he recovered. He was to contact Sif as soon as he could and Virgil would be over later to take him on a walk around the estate to assess his conversational capabilities.

When he was finished with breakfast, he returned to his room and sat down on his bed before reaching over his nightstand and activating the small vox-transceiver that he used to communicate with Sif almost daily. Kayson told him it was a relic from decades ago, where somewhere along the line a Makeo had been in the Imperial Guard and actually returned home with this communications device. Sif's father had cloned the transceiver with his expert technical skill and since then, Sif and Thomas' relationship had grown nothing but stronger.

While the vox initiated the link, Thomas laid pack against the pillows and sighed. He wished he was out there with his father and the rest of the estate workers. The thought of moaning and hungry humans somewhere in the Imperium of Man agonized him and made his heart feel like stone. He had always done what he could to volunteer at the local Ecclesiarchal church run by preacher Elisio.

It was there he would volunteer with the homeless, the sick, and the hungry-doing whatever he could from talking to helping with physical needs with Elisio. The preacher in return along with his associate, Virgil, regarded Thomas as a boy with the brightest of futures ahead of him. Kind, caring, loving, and most of all passionate about aiding those who were not as fortunate as him.

_Maybe that's why so many of the girls were after me_...he thought, snickering to himself as he remembered all the rumors and secrets that one way or the other made their way to him about local girls younger and older than him who were secretly in love with him. Not just because of his looks, but because of his manners and character. Many parents had to comfort their daughters they day they found out Thomas and Sif had gotten together.

Come to think of it...no his mother said he couldn't work. Thomas was unusual, he hated not working. He felt completely useless if he wasn't working.

Suddenly, the transceiver crackled before clearing and Sif's energetic and frantic voice came over the radio.

"**Thomas? Thomas?! Is that you? Tell me you're alright. Please tell me you remember me. Please oh please dear Saint-"**

Thomas chuckled, "Sif calm down it's me, I'm alright. I've got two arms and two legs and my head attached to my body. I'm pretty sure I don't need the prayers of any Saint right now."

"**Your mother said you hit your head and you barely made it back to the house. Are you sure you are completely recovered? What about your memory?**"**  
**

The boy chuckled again and shook his head, "I don't remember there being a yesterday though I do remember us having a dinner maybe...what? Three or four days ago? I can't quite pinpoint it but nevertheless I have no pain and I feel great. Mother has restricted me from working despite my attempts to reason with her."

"**You know there is no reasoning with Kellia Makeo.**" her laughter filled the vox.

Thomas threw his hands up irritatingly, "There's no reasoning with any woman. Even you! Remember that one time where you wouldn't talk to me for a whole week because you saw me carrying Bethany's belonging's?"

Sif's growl of irritation was ominous enough to make Thomas regret saying that, "**I had every right to be suspicious.**"

He slapped his forehead, "I was helping her back from the starport Sif, nothing to be afraid of...anyways...I'm sorry I missed you yesterday. I hear the sky was beautiful last night."**  
**

She sighed, "**You should have seen it, I could have sworn I saw the dust clouds and nebulas that make space so beautiful. The stars were as bright as the capital city if not brighter. Somewhere up there, Sindri's working his ass off with his uncle.**"

Thomas laughed, "Ah, poor Sindri...come to think of it I should have got his letter by now that he said he'd write. Did you get yours?"

"**Yes, it arrived yesterday morning.**" Sif replied.

He thought for a moment before groaning, "Damn it, I probably did something with it yesterday and now its position has been completely wiped from my memory. Thank the Emperor for concussions."

"**Oh you'll find it Thomas, it's not like it grew legs and walked off.**" Sif teased.

Thomas began looking around his bed and opened drawers on his nightstand, "You'd be surprised how many things I misplace. I'm starting to believe they do grow legs and walk off, leaving me completely hopeless and full of frustration." As Thomas searched around, Sif was silent for a couple moments. He seemed completely oblivious to the fact he was still talking to her when she spoke up.

"**Thomas.**" she said.

"Yes?" he replied as he stood up, looking around the room to see if Sindri's letter was laying around.

"**Will you marry me someday?**" she asked, the hopefulness evident in her voice.

Thomas stopped what he was doing and turned back to the transceiver, he sighed and sat back down on his bed before pulling the vox as close to the edge of the nightstand as possible as he turned on his side to look at it.

"Sif, do you think I love you?" he asked back.

"**I...I...what?**" she asked, confused by his counter question.**  
**

"The answer is yes to the first question and should most definitely be yes to my own question. Sif...that day...when we were sitting on the shore of that lake, where we could both barely breathe after I swam out to get you...I know what I said. It may have been six years ago but I would never forget something as important as that."

He lay his head against the pillow, "I promised that I would marry you someday and keep you safe, just as my father said to my mother before me. But Sif...you ask this question nearly every other week...why? You know the answer."

"**Its the fear of something like this happening. Something much worse...you'll hit your head and lose everything you ever knew or you'll break something in your body and never be able to walk again or-**"

"Would you still love me if those things happened to me?" Thomas asked, somewhat worried about her answer.

Sif paused for a moment before replying, "**Of course Thomas, even if all I had left of you was your soul...even if you were confined to a bed or hover chair for the rest of your life...you are the only one I want to spend the rest of my life with.**"

Thomas closed his eyes and smiled, "Then Sif, I will marry you someday...but today...is not that day. We are still young and living under our parent's roofs. I still haven't figured out how to pay the taxes and your cooking still needs work."

"**I-I-I swear I'm learning! That's all! I'm just a beginner! I-I-I'll have something baked and excellent for you tomorrow. Y-Yo-You won't be disappointed!**" she said frantically.

This time, Thomas laughed out loud and replied, "Sif don't worry about it, you don't have to impress me or anything. Your beauty has smile has already done that."

"**Have I ever mentioned how much I love you?**" she asked.

"More than you can possibly remember." Thomas said. A glint of light from his window caught his eye and he sat up to look out of it. At the foot of the hill where his estate was situated on, he could see the unmistakable form of Virgil and his staff walking along the paths around the hill.

Thomas turned back to the vox and said, "I must go my love, I've got to speak with Virgil. I will see you sometime tomorrow."

"**I love you.**" Sif said in a very saddening tone, depressed that they would not be able to speak any more for the rest of the day.

Thomas replied, "And I love you." he then placed three of his fingers to his forehead before placing them on the vox, a common form of greeting on Yama Enda between two parties. He knew that a couple miles away on the Altor estate, Sif was probably doing the same thing. After that, he turned off the vox and got himself dressed and groomed before leaving out of the front door to meet Virgil.

He zipped up his coat which he had brought along to protect against the chilly gusts of wind that were blowing around the the estate. When he reached the bottom of the hill near the gate he found Virgil examining a group of flowers situated on the inside border of the wall.

"I've never seen you so interested in flowers teacher." Thomas said.

Virgil did not turn around but extended one hand towards the pink flowers while his other hand held his staff, "They remind me that there is something in this galaxy worth living for."

"They remind you? What? Are you not convinced of everything around you that your eyes can see?" Thomas asked, looking around inside his family's estate.

"It took me a great long time to become accustomed to being blind and I had to learn that my sense of touch would come to replace it as my greatest of senses. If you were to think about it enough...one does not need eyes to see...your hands can paint the picture within your mind as clearly as one sees the first rays of light when he wakes up in the morning." Virgil said, standing up and smiling.

Thomas was instantly reminded of his teacher's blindness, which he apparently sustained in the Great War out there in the vast galaxy that was home to them all. The injury he sustained was hidden by his coconut shaped helmet all the way to half way down to his nose and prevented anyone from seeing it. Virgil did not talk about his service in the great war or where he had gotten his staff with the Imperial Aquila on it, he preferred to keep such cold topics out of the ears of children.

Virgil was an associate to Preacher Elisio but where the latter addressed crowds and spread the world of the Imperial Cult, Virgil educated the youth-taught them how to read and write and nurtured their thought processes. Both men were well loved and respected not only for their work but for their dedication to others outside of their workplaces. Hence why Virgil was commonly seen on walks with Thomas across the fields of wheat.

The blind man gestured to the gate and together the two exited the estate and began walking into the wheat fields.

"Your mother tells me you suffered a rather harsh blow to the head recently, I trust you still know your own name." Virgil said, a smile forming on his lips.

"I don't remember there being a yesterday, but I do know that my name is Thomas Makeo son of Kayson and Kellia and brother to Minerva. Is that enough proof for you?" Thomas asked, cocking his head in Virgil's direction.

Virgil nodded, "Well enough, but let us test you even further...recite to me the prayer of Saint Lucia."

Thomas blinked before clearing his throat...

_They may take away my clothes, but the Emperor keeps me warm._

_They may strip away all that I have been given, but the Emperor keeps me warm._

_They may sunder my body and defile it, but the Emperor keeps me warm._

_They may whisper words of heresy into my ears, but the Emperor keeps me warm._

_They may strive to invade the house of my father, but the Emperor keeps me warm._

_They may spread lies and deceit through the house of my father, but the Emperor keeps me warm._

_The warmth that the Emperor gives me is a power none can match or withsatnd, the strength of the Emperor is beyond mortal comprehension._

_It is me he has chosen to bear the light of his word through the darkness of the future and the cold of the void._

_He has imbued the strength to purge heresy and bring the light back to Terra. _

_And I can do anything through he who gives me strength._

Thomas took a deep breath as he finished the prayer and Virgil nodded, "Music to my ears. Sweet Saint Lucia...tortured to death by heretics but her silence of speech was what made her victorious that day. As Elisio has no doubt told you, the words that come from your mouth are of the most holy nature, you should be honored to utter them."

"There is no greater honor than honoring a daughter of the Emperor." Thomas said but to his surprise, Virgil's lips drooped and Thomas could tell he was frowning under his helmet.

"You are a very poor liar, did I ever tell you that?" Virgil said.

Thomas was shocked that his teacher would ever utter those words and mumbled, "B-B-but I..."

"Sif said the very same thing when she came to me a couple of weeks ago, it is not that I believe you are repeating what she is saying but it is clear to me that your vision of the Emperor is stout and straightforward." Virgil said, digging his staff into the ground with each step.

"Is that not what it should be?" Thomas asked warily, he knew the risks of uttering blasphemy and heretical words and he dared not think of the consequences for such actions.

"Has Elisio taught you nothing?" Virgil shook his head and continue, "It is alright to have your own version of the Emperor in your mind Thomas, it is what makes us human. Humanity is bestowed a rare gift by the Emperor...free will and choice whether to praise and love him or..." Vigil didn't have to finish his sentence.

"And if a human's perspective of the Emperor is perverted?" the boy asked.

"It is not difficult to tell when someone has given into heresy even if they believe they believe their own version of the Emperor is right. I have encountered many who thought this way and they deserved only one fate for their actions." Virgil said.

Virgil looked up towards the sky and said, "Allow me to show you my version of the Emperor...he may sit immobile on the Golden Throne as we speak but that does not mean he is not with us each and every day...others act through his words and whispers and become Saints, great generals, charitable persons and so forth. The Emperor need not be present for others to act out his will."

Thomas looked down, "Then have I been lying to myself my entire life? Thinking that I have my own version of the Emperor when it is really just the doctrine of the Cult?"

"Speak your mind Thomas." Virgil said.

Thomas sighed and the two exited a field and onto a gravel road between another field. They decided to travel down this road to the next intersection marked by Mpopla trees.

He shoved his hands in his sweat pockets and said, "Sif asked me today if I was going to marry her someday."

Virgil looked to his student, "This is not the first time you have told me this."

Thomas nodded, "I know, but today was different. It wasn't just every other week where I tell her the same answer over and over again. This time...I felt as if...as if..."

Virgil looked on curiously, "As if you were unsure of what you were actually saying?"

Thomas nodded guiltily.

The blind man smiled and placed a hand on Thomas' shoulder signaling for him to stop in the middle of the road, he turned the boy towards him and tapped him in the heart with a wing of his Aquila.

"Do you not see the same predicament you have with your version of the Emperor? You repeat the words thinking you know them but in fact you are clueless as to what they actually mean. Your problem is youth Thomas. Youth. You are but sixteen summers old and despite the intelligence that you have in that thick head of yours...your youth still betrays you. You are trying to age much too fast for your own good."

Thomas protested, "But I have so much work to do! I can't just stand by and let the fields go unattended and waste the day doing nothing. What am I useful for if I cannot work?"

"Is that what you think of yourself as? A mere tool? If that is your mindset than I must regret to inform you have a very poor outlook on life." Virgil said sharply and motioned for the two of them to keep walking as he continued, "In someways you are right, some humans are tools and parts to the greater machine that is humanity but within each sub-sector...within each system...within each planet lies an uncountable number of machines that are driven by each and every person's energy."

He turned to Thomas as he walked, "What do you think you're family would feel...or perhaps Sif...if one day you dropped dead of exhaustion? Your parents and sister would be devastated, Sif would be near irreparable, and the community would mourn and as we all know...our energy transfers to our work and output. Death would cast a cold shadow over the land and the crops would suffer...all because one little machine tried to gain a heightened directive on on the chain where he shouldn't have."

Thomas blinked and looked down at the gravel as he walked and noticed the amount of dirt and soot that covered his boots. He said, "I am my own machine and if I break down..."

"You affect the entirety of the communal machine. There are some parts of the human machine that can be replaced or be substituted but in your case boy...you are irreplaceable." Virgil said.

_You aren't useless at all. In fact, you're irreplaceable. _

Thomas suddenly heard the echoing of his mother's words to his father, Virgil had basically repeated them to Thomas in his own sense. Thomas looked up at the gravel street as it extended into the horizon.

"You are one of the few humans that have the chance to enjoy the life your mother and father were gifted. What you said to me a couple of days ago...about how if you had the chance to fight on the fields of the Great War...That Thomas is very different than the one that walks beside me. Why is this so?"

Thomas shrugged, "Perhaps I hit my head a little too hard."

Virgil smiled and nodded for Thomas to stated his real reason and the boy continued, "Perhaps I am a bit...conflicted...but I do not know the source."

The older man directed the two of them into a wheat field that ran parallel to the large walls surrounding the Makeo estate as he said, "The source of your problem boy lays in the part of conscious that only the Emperor can truly access...your mind. I can only do so much as diagnose the problem...the Emperor...as the solution."

Thomas looked to Virgil and asked, "But I cannot hear him. Never have I heard him in all my life. I would think he has more important humans to look after than me."

"All fathers care for their sons." Virgil said, but paused and added, "The righteous fathers that is...It is foolish to think he is not aware of each and every human that is alive today. He listens to you Thomas and do not mistake his silence for inaction for the Emperor is as careful as he is articulate. He waits and watches...acting through others to produce the desired result."

Thomas saw they were coming back towards the gate to the estate.

"I see the good of the Emperor in you Thomas...no one will deny that. But if you want answers to your conflict...if you want the Emperor to respond to you directly...than you will have to hear the Emperor in your own right. No one else can dictate what the Emperor tells you directly. That conversation is between the Emperor and you alone."

He tapped his staff on Thomas' heart and forehead, "That conversation must take place here and here."

The pair came up to the gate and like a couple days before, Virgil looked around before making the sign of Yama Enda upon his helmet to his pupil. Thomas nodded and did the same before turning around

"Thomas."

The boy turned around just as he opened the gate to his estate.

Virgil nodded at him and smiled, "He shall call on you, and you will hear the Emperor."

With that, Virgil turned around and began walking away into the wheat fields directly behind him, his staff in one hand and with his other he grazed the tops of the wheat stalks, humming to himself as he walked farther and farther away.

Thomas blinked and whispered words of thanks to his teacher before opening the gate completely and beginning to walk up the path to his house and allowing the gate to shut behind him. When he walked high enough up the path, he turned around, expecting to see his teacher's retreating form somewhere in the wheat fields below him.

But Virgil was gone.

* * *

A couple of hours later, he was in the midst of helping his mother and Minerva clean out storage bins and boxes from the catacombs beneath the house. When Thomas had told his friends there were catacombs beneath his house, they had both been suspicious and amazed and had asked why this was so.

His parents told him that the catacombs, while the fact they were catacombs, were there for as long as they could remember and their parents had told them the same thing but they had always been empty and lit only by candle emplacements when needed. Now, they were simply being converted to store extra household items and material things which didn't nearly take up enough space as the catacombs offered.

"Minerva! Stop playing with those trinkets and bring down the toys I told you to." his mother snapped at Minerva who in turn puffed out her cheeks and wen't up her room to gather what she did not need anymore.

They were in the hallway separating the kitchen and dining room and the living room when Thomas opened one of the boxes. It was filled with dust and he coughed and waved away the cloud and grabbed some gloves that were on the floor next to him. When he looked in, he found a couple of old books and other items that he knew could probably be used elsewhere in the house or the clerical church.

He was about to move onto the next when he saw something that almost blended in with the brown cardboard that had previously encased it. It was nearly flat and rectangular but Thomas' curiousness overrode every other thought and he picked it up off the right inside face of the box.

It was a frame.

When he turned it over, the picture was so clouded with dust that he couldn't properly see it so he sucked in his breath and blew off the dust with one powerful breath. When he saw the portrait clearly, his eyes widened and he took in a sharp breath

There was a woman who was only visible from her torso up but was clad in a black hooded coat trimmed by sashes that displayed either the Imperial Aquila or the Makeo family symbol-a small bead attached to upside down wings. The hood was back so he could clearly see her sharp and crisp facial features and yet another Makeo symbol tatooed underneath her right eye. Her brown hair was tied into a single braid that fell over her left shoulder and was pinned up a little on the top of her head by multiple circular pins. Some of her hair draped down over her face but her striking eyes and visible smile were still evident.

There was no mistaking who this was.

His mother had come over to him after she'd seen the enormous amount of dust coming from the portrait, when she saw the woman in the frame, she smiled and said, "Your grandmother just will not let go of you will she? Even in the arms of the Emperor she watches over you."

This was his father's mother...Thomas had always called her Grandmother Makeo but had always known her true name...Julciad Makeo. That was the extent to which even his father remembered about his mother besides her appearance.

"It's a shame I never got to meet her, I would have asked her so many questions." Thomas said, his hands running over the portrait.

Kellia ran her fingers across the frame, "You are spitting image of her, now you know where you and your father get their good looks." she smiled.

Thomas smiled weakly.

"She would be very pleased to see who her grandson has become." Kellia said and kissed her son on the cheek. "Why don't you take your Grandmother's portrait up to your room with you? It's only fitting that she be with you after all." she asked and Thomas looked back at the portrait of his youthful grandmother. According to Kayson, his own mother had died when he was very young and did not remember much of her besides her beautiful brown hair and graceful smile.

What was interesting is that a couple years back, Thomas had been digging through the storage bins in the catacombs when he had come across a small chain attached to a circular locket engraved with the Makeo family symbol-a small circle with upside down wings attached to it. When he had opened the locket, he found a nearly identical picture of Grandmother Makeo resting within it. Inside the storage bins were few short letters to various family members including Kayson, Kellia, and interestingly enough-one addressed to her future firstborn grandson.

Thomas had refused to open it however, for reasons unknown to him, he figured he'd wait for some day where his faith was more so conflicted than it ever was or the day he and Sif married or something like that.

How Grandmother knew she would have a firstborn grandson was beyond Thomas, maybe she'd just been lucky. Since then he carried the locket around his neck but would sometimes grow paranoid of losing it and not wear it for a couple days but would always return to wearing it one way or the other.

Even though he had never known her, or heard her voice, Thomas sometimes found himself hearing an imaginary version of his Grandmother's voice reading the letter addressed to him whenever he found the need to re-read it. Using her picture and this imaginary voice, he had visualized his grandmother when she was younger or at the time that picture was taken...beautiful but also strong willed and intelligent.

He nodded to his mother and took the portrait under his arm as he walked up to his room. When he reached it, he found a small peg in the wall to hang its thread by near the entrance to his room and placed it there. He stepped back to admire his Grandmother's new home in his room and gave her the sign of Yama Enda.

When he finished, he wen't back downstairs before finally descending to the catacombs below to bring out more storage bins. He climbed down the ladder which descended about the height of eight feet down into the ground and jumped off at the second step and his boots hit the sand beneath him. He grabbed the flashlight that was laying on the box off to his right and made his way into the northern catacombs.

"Bring me back up the one marked, "Kayson's tools" will you love? Thank you!" his mother called from above and Thomas nodded his affirmation. The catacombs were light by tiny rock outcroppings in the walls that were level enough to hold candles engineered to last a very long time.

He cursed to himself, he always hated this routine because he knew he'd eventually bring back boxes into the catacombs and his mother was so indecisive about things-part of the reason why there was still stuff in here to begin with. He had traveled about ten yards when he turned to his right and found a large indent in the wall where a couple of boxes were sitting, waiting for them to be brought up into the house.

"Kayson's tools...Kayson's tools...Kayson's tools...Kay...here you are." Thomas said as he found the medium sized box in the back row of three rows of three boxes each. He sighed as he got to work moving the heavy boxes out of the way to get to the desired one in the back.

He was about to reach for it when all of a sudden, the light in nearby storage indent off to his left dimmed.

Thomas stopped reaching for the box and raised an eyebrow as he leaned back up and leaned even further back to look down the pathway that led further into the catacombs. It was lit for another ten or twenty yards before the Makeo's no longer needed any more space in the catacombs and the darkness reigned beyond that.

There was barely any airflow in the catacombs except the occasional time when air flowed in from the opening to the house above him, so why had the light dimmed? His father had lit them this morning and they should be no were near depletion by now.

He continued looking down the pathway before shrugging and walked forward to grab the box that his mother wanted. Grunting, he dragged it out of the rows and put the others back in place before he began to push it back towards the ladder.

He had only traveled a couple feet when he heard a series of squeaks and the unmistakable sound of something moving on top of cardboard. Thomas turned around to see a mouse leap move into the passage way-a small silver chain that looked like a necklace with a decorative symbol attached to it. The mouse grabbed it in its mouth and it began to run off in the opposite direction.

"Hey!" Thomas yelled, suddenly angry that the mouse had stuck its nose where it didn't belong, "Hey you little bastard! Get back here!" He pushed off the box and grabbed the flashlight from his pocket and took off after the mouse.

Whatever the mouse had in its mouth was Makeo property and heritage, not some tiny vermin's. Oh when Thomas got a hold of that thing he would make sure that it never came back this way.

He thought he heard something slam shut behind him, but disregarded it.

He ran past the storage indent he had just been in and he could still see the mouse running off about ten yards ahead of him towards the darkness. Growling to himself, he pushed himself harder and he began to gain on the vermin before it disappeared into the darkness of the extended catacombs. Thomas was not about to let a childhood fear of darkness allow the mouse the escape so he flipped on the flashlight to full brightness and followed the tiny thief into the darkness.

For about thirty seconds, he took lefts and rights as he fought to keep the mouse in his sight and in some cases almost lost it in the darkness but eventually relied on its noticeably prints in the sand on the ground to find it again.

Thomas grunted as he dove and caught the trailing end of the chain and quickly enclosed his fingers against it and got to his feet smiling like a maniac as the the mouse was lifted up along with it-refusing to let it go.

"Sorry little thief, but this is mine...not yours." Thomas snickered and gave the necklace a few shakes before the mouse finally let go and fell to ground and scrambled off into the darkness.

He sighed and lifted the necklace up to his face so he could see it with the flash light he had in his left hand. Of course the necklace would be a silver version of the Makeo family symbol and Thomas breathed a sigh of relief that he had gotten it back from the tiny thief.

Suddenly, there was very loud squeak directly ahead of him that he could only assume was from the mouse. Something was unusual because the mouse's frantic squeaks got louder and louder until he realized the mouse was actually coming back at him. He raised an eyebrow and got down on his knees and lowered the flash light to the ground next to him so that the light spread out and he was able to see the entire ground of the passage way in front of him for a couple feet.

Not a second later, the small form of the mouse came gallivanting back but with far more speed and its squeaks hinted that the mouse was afraid...very afraid. The Makeo's didn't have any pet cats and so far as he knew, Thomas was sure they didn't have any large predators on his estate. The mouse didn't seem to care as its tiny legs carried it past Thomas far quicker than it had been running away from him not a minute earlier.

Thomas turned and watched it go from his knees, his pupils had adjusted enough to the darkness so that he could see moderately well and he watched it disappear into the catacombs yet again-still squeaking its fear.

A small flow of cold air suddenly appeared and brushed over Thomas as he looked after the mouse. He nevertheless rubbed his arms and called after the mouse, "Afraid of the dark little thief? Serves you right!" and he turned around to grab his flashlight...

Two objects that looked a lot like long, serrated armored legs and feet were in the light emitted by the flashlight. Standing mere inches from him.

His blood chilled and his pupils dilated. A sudden burst of energy surged through him as he let out a scream of fear and grabbed the flashlight and spun around, and stumbled getting up before scrambling to his feet and took off running.

"Mother! MOTHER!" he cried, fear literally pumping pure adrenaline through his veins as he fought to keep the flashlight in his hands and the beam of light forward. He had gone into the dark catacombs before and knew his way back but fear was beginning to cloud his mind.

He breathed frantically as he ran and ran-taking lefts and rights here and there as he tried desperately to get back to the familiar catacombs. Not a couple seconds later, he came to an intersection and took a sharp left and he felt his ankle bend and protest to the sudden movement. A chilling cold wind was beginning to inch up his back. He made the mistake of turning around with the flashlight to check behind him.

He caught the sight of a slender, pale figurine almost a couple feet behind him.

"_Druchii Mon'Keigh...Druchii...hacas nede._"

Thomas screamed again and bit back his pain. His vision was suddenly filled with the familiar light of the lit catacombs. He was almost back to the entrance to the house! He had to warn his mother and father! Someone else was down here with him!

"MOTHER! FATHER!" he cried to see if anyone had come looking for him but no one answered him. He ran past a couple of storage indents, the ladder back up the house was only a left turn and a straight run of about ten yards.

Suddenly, the candles that lit the catacombs in front of him simply winked out of existence, a cold wind flowing over him and plunging the area in front of him into total darkness. Thomas' heart dropped like an iron weight and he cried out in surprise.

He was so surprised and scared that he tripped on his bad ankle and tumbled to the ground-the roughness scrapping his hands and knees. For a moment he gritted his teeth in pain and rolled onto his back, his ankle throbbing with pain and his palms and knees scraped and bleeding. That was when he noticed the candles beginning to extinguish in front of him.

One by one, the storage indents were beginning to plunge into darkness, and Thomas' fear only grew larger in proportion. It was almost as if the darkness was creeping towards him as it's cold and unforgiving wind blew out the candles seated on the walls of the catacombs.

Before he could even think about getting up, the last candle attached to the wall on the upper right flickered and died, leaving only the flashlight that was propped up against the right wall, facing the darkness that Thomas had just tried to escape from.

Silence.

And then...

The unmistakable sound of footsteps against the ground that were not his own. The footsteps belonged to something...or someone that was walking towards him, if had been his parents-he would have either heard them by now or they would be running with a flashlight.

He was paralyzed.

Fear reigned and courage waned.

His breathe was as rapid as his beating heart and surprisingly, his pain seemed to be forced into another corner of his attention. He had never experienced this kind of fear ever in his entire life and as a result, it had complete control over him and prevented him from moving.

The footsteps were not loud thuds but as simple and elegant as his own. They grew closer until finally...

...The bearer of Thomas' fear and the footsteps stepped into the light given off by the flashlight. Its entire form was illuminated so that Thomas could plainly see his pursuer.

His eyes grew as wide as they could go and his blood chilled even more, he was still paralyzed by his fear that was poisoning his mind.

It was...

..._an alien_.

This alien, while it had humanoid features was most definitely not human.

It had narrow violet eyes and elongated ears as well as sharp and angular facial features. Its skin was pale in comparison to his own and it wore knife like armor on its shoulders, chest, shins, and feet. It's jet black hair was tied into a single braid that fell over its right shoulder and seem to be further elongated by rather menacing looking clips that covered the length of the braid. Multiple markings of unknown design or source covered its arms and forehead. Nothing compared to the obvious assortment of blades and knives that covered its waist.

The alien could safely assumed to be of the female gender judging by the articulate nature of its face and long hair as long as the half-armor, half-clothing it wore around its chest. Why Thomas' mind was thinking about these questions was beyond him, perhaps this is what his mind did its last moments. The alien's almost human like features did not give any sort of comfort to Thomas as he lay on his back.

An alien.

Here.

On Yama Enda.

_Somewhere and somehow no matter how we live...the war will touch us all._

Those were Virgil's words.

His teacher was right.

More right than he could imagine at this very moment.

The alien's total command over the situation gave it control over Thomas' fear and the intimidation factor was all the way in its favor. He did not cry out and neither did do anything but lay on his back looking back at the alien. He was completely paralyzed by fear. By the Emperor, she must hear his heart thumping in his chest at this point!

He only blinked once but in that nano-second the alien suddenly appeared much closer-faster than his eyes could even hope to track. Her speed was beyond that of any human and suddenly he felt her uncharacteristically smooth hand around his neck and fingers as cold as the void on the right side of his face as it picked him up effortlessly and thrust him against the rocky wall. He cried out with a mixture of fear and pain and turned his head away while closing his eyes. He did not want to look at this alien for his death was all but assured.

Here in these dark catacombs the alien would eviscerate him and then move upstairs to his unsuspecting family. Then, it would move outside and butcher the rest of the community-Sif...Virgil...Elisio...Bethany...Alexandros.

All of his hard working nature and ethic and it was here that his death would be. The future that he had planned out for himself would come to an end and his light would be gone from the world of the living forever.

He could not stare this enemy of all Mankind in the face like he heard the warriors of the Emperor had. That was all aliens existed for-to either destroy or enslave humanity for their own cruel and malicious ends.

He cowardly waited for the end.

But nothing happened, it just held him there against the wall with her hand around his neck and her fingers across his left cheek while he whimpered in fear and pain.

"_Druchii Mon'Keigh...Druchii...Salesh gienes._"

It spoke with the same melody and song of a voice it had spoke with not a couple minutes earlier. The language was a tongue twister for Thomas and neither did he recognize anything the alien had said, not that he should care in the first place. Her breath was almost silent but he could feel its surprisingly warm touch across his neck and face and it sent shivers of fear down his spine. She must be able to feel and taste his fright by now.

He opened his eyes.

The alien's face was mere inches from his. Her violet eyes were narrowed and lips drooped into an ominous frown, the sight of which probably could have flayed Thomas if the alien so wished.

Suddenly her free arm moved and Thomas closed his eyes, preparing for his long fought and hard life to end.

But the alien did not pull any knives or weapons from her waist, instead, he felt her free hand tug on the locket of his grandmother hanging around his neck, the chain pulled against the back of his neck. Thomas' eyes flew open and he looked on in horror as the alien flipped open the locket and stare at the portrait of his grandmother.

It let out a sinister laugh and with a pull of inhuman strength, pulled the chain on the back of his neck apart and held the locket up to her face, her eyes switching between Thomas and the locket before she lowered her hand and put the locket in some sort of pocket on her waist.

"No! That's mine! Give it back!" Thomas suddenly screeched, his body beginning to flail and resist the choke hold of the alien woman, who only seemed irritated by his behavior. He didn't even see her free hand move to a different place on her waist and pull something off it and the next thing he knew, a sudden pain ignited from the base of his neck.

The alien had slapped a syringe type device into the base of his neck and she held it there for a couple seconds as Thomas screamed and resisted-emptying its contents of unknown dark blue liquid into his body. He could feel something that was more attune to a cold fire spreading throughout his neck, head, and chest before it moved horrifyingly past to every corner of his body.

Thomas began to feel dizzy and he quickly lost the strength to resist as his arms returned to his sides. The alien woman let go and he tumbled to the ground in a daze on his side. His vision became unfocused and his fear began to retreat from his mind as the cold fire fastened its grip on his body. He felt something like being tucked into a feathery bed slip over his mind and body as his eyes looked up one last time.

The alien woman had turned around and was walking in the direction Thomas had been running in, her head cocked to the side as if to look back at him but she did not turn around again as she disappeared once more into the darkness.

And then, Thomas' world wen't black again.

* * *

Slowly, groggily, but surely, Thomas Makeo began to awake from his state of unconsciousness. He tasted something bland in his mouth and coughed out dirt and gravel from his mouth. His muscles felt sore and weak as if he had run a couple miles worth of exercise.

He groaned and slowly pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and simply caught his breath for a moment. He felt sick to his stomach and sweat dripped from his brow as he licked his parched lips. His feet had pins and needles but luckily he wasn't naked as he still felt his tunic, sweats, and boots on him.

But why was it so hot? His vision was fading in and out and whenever he tried to shake his head, the grogginess returned. He decided to hold himself still for a couple moments as his vision eventually came to right itself.

He barely had any strength left in him as he was barely able to sit back on his rear against the wall of the catacombs. His mind was muck with dull pain or confusion and he felt spittle dripping out of the corners of his mouth. Thomas didn't think to try and lick it up because he coughed and tried to breathe through the...

Smoke?

That was when he looked up and even through the darkness he could see the grey haziness of smoke drifting through the tunnels. It wasn't the first time that he smelt smoke obviously but what was unusual was that there was a lot of it...and it was coming from the direction of the entrance back up to the house.

He blinked a couple of times and stumbled to his feet, still in a daze as he fell against the opposite wall. He breathed heavily and swallowed bile that was in his throat.

"Mi...Mi...Min...er...er...va." he mumbled as he sort of hobbled the opposite way the smoke was traveling in. His night vision had become accustomed to the darkness and he could see the straight path that led to the ladder and up to the house.

It took him literally ten minutes from falling to his knees to leaning against the walls to travel from where he'd been unconscious to the ladder, mumbling the names of his family incoherently. Every now and then an unknown face would appear in his vision-violet eyes...pale skin...crisp facial features...not human.

But his mind was focused on finding the source of the smoke.

When he finally reached the ladder, he lazily raised his head to see smoke drifting through the blatantly damaged wooden cover that first needed to be opened for anyone to get in or get out of the catacombs. There were large gashes in the wooden cover that the smoke could be seen drifting through.

It was getting noticeably harder.

Thomas put his feet on the first step of the ladder and began to climb.

"M-M-Mo-M-Moth...Mothe..." he mumbled as he climbed painstakingly upward, barely enough energy filling his muscles to get to the next step. Each step of the ladder seemed like climbing an entire mountain. Sometimes he had to stop and lay his body against the ladder because it was simply too much-his muscles were protesting and he felt a growing sensation in his stomach as smoke drifted into his eyes and nostrils.

He almost didn't realize that his head bumped against the wooden cover.

Thomas blinked for a moment before pushing up against the cover with his hands but he was much too weak to try and force it with his weight. He tried time and time again but to no avail. Finally he switched strategies and delivered a punch to the side of one of the gashes in the wood and sure enough it splintered to open more of itself up to the rest of the house.

He delivered one last punch as the splinters in his hand finally began to draw blood and by that time, he had created a large enough gap in the left side of the cover to crawl through. Thomas lowered his head and climbed upward through the hole and up into his house.

He was met by an onslaught of heat, which mean't only one thing in conjunction with the ravenous smoke.

Fire...uncontrolled fire.

Thomas had trouble pulling his lower body out of the whole and it took him a good five minutes just to reposition himself to move his legs and feet out of the whole-suffering a near blackout as he strained himself a little too much. When his entire body was out of the wooden cover and sat down beside it, it was then that he was made aware of the environment around him.

There was a fire in the kitchen directly behind him and to his right where the entrance to the backyard was. More fire was licking at the walls and ceiling above and to his right. Even more so, he could tell that it was night by the lack of light coming from the windows directly in front of him.

His family was nowhere to be seen.

Thomas, still dazed beyond the ability to feel any sort of emotion, got to his feet and moved towards the front door which appeared to have been blasted apart into splinters. Even around him, the fires spread and debris fell from the ceiling onto the floor-missing him by a couple of feet on all sides.

When he stepped through the front door, he stumbled as he misjudged the placement of the first step and tumbled down onto his stomach. Nevertheless, some strength returned to him and his wobbly arms found the way to get him back on his feet. When he stood up, he took in his first sight of the world around him.

And it was burning.

Off to the northwest, he could see an inferno raging in the nearby town of Dalium, where most of the surrounding community for twenty miles came to celebrate the end of the harvest not a couple days earlier. He could hear the horrifying screams of pain and misery coming from that direction not six or seven miles away.

The Mpopla tress that lined the path up to the estate were all burnt to a crisp and the grass around them had been reduced to ash. He looked behind him to see the barn was blazing and suddenly, it's roof caved in and produced a mighty crash as wood splintered onto the ground.

Devoid of any emotion but the directive to just keep walking, Thomas began stumbling down the path towards the gate at the bottom of the hill.

"F-Fa...Fa...ther." he stuttered as he took lazy and drunken steps down the rock path, nearly slipping on the gravel as it bottomed out a little bit but eventually he made it down to the gate without falling on his face again.

When he made it down to the gate that formed the center of the wall surrounding his estate, he found that it too had been blown down and splintered onto the ground. Thomas disregarded this fact and stepped through just as the roof of the house caved in and fell to the ground with a noticeably crash.

_The environment looked as if it had been dipped in a sort of bluish-grey paint, the sky was a little bit darker but not exactly a void like the vacuum of space. The wheat itself was duller in color but flowed just as gently in the wind as it did on any normal day. There were multiple trees that marked corners as well as beginnings and ends of fields and they too were blowing softly-creating a chorus of leaves rubbing together and branches bending to the will of the wind._

_He walked._

Thomas looked from side to side and saw nothing but fires burning in separate fields and trees. He looked up into the sky and saw what looked like fireballs coming down from the black clouds and surprisingly swooping over the area to the west and east. The firestorm raged as far as the eye could see.

Yet he felt nothing.

He knew not where his family was, but could only listen to the sounds of cries of pain and misery coming from all directions.

_He walked with no haste at all, no sense of obligation but with one direction. In his slow pace, he was able to extend his left hand downward and feel the tips of the wheat brush up against his palm. Where the wheat may have been rough and course to some hands, his were hardened by sixteen years of hard work-making them formidable against most forms of irritation._

_In fact, the wheat felt delightful against his skin._

The stalks of wheat that had appeared like an ocean of gold a couple of days ago were simply black ash by now and it crunched under his feet as he walked. There was no more beauty to behold about this environment now.

It had turned in a matter of hours into a hell storm.

But still, Thomas felt nothing. He didn't know why he didn't feel anything, but only that he did not feel anything.

Thomas walked for what seemed like hours to him but there was still no end to raging fires that dotted the land. Some were spreading quickly while others remained in place. The sky was as black as the vacuum of space and he could see ominous smoke clouds forming beneath the sky, contrasting with the darkness of the night.

He extended his right hand downward and tried to feel for the tops of wheat stalks but felt nothing, he nevertheless kept his hand down there for the slight chance that something would brush against his hand.

Suddenly, his legs gave out and he fell to his knees. Thomas didn't even feel like trying to get up anymore, the strength had finally left him for good. He looked forward and saw a single wheat stalk standing in front of him midst a sea of ash and blackness.

He stared at it for a while before closing his eyes and bowing his head over. The boy remained like this for sometime before the sound of something hitting the ground directly in front of him caused him to open his eyes.

Something had crushed the single wheat stalk.

He looked up...

...and saw something that was definitely not human.

In the middle of its body was a slender figure whose skin was painted red from its ankles to its neck but its feet weren't even touching the ground. Extra limbs and appendages that hung from its back held it nearly two or three feet from the ground. Some of these looked like massive claws and stabbing talons that shifted and clicked from the back of its body.

It was looking down at him.

And Thomas stared back at it.

One of its many appendages reached forth and wrapped its bony ligaments around Thomas' neck and lifted him up effortlessly and brought him close to the creature's face. Its mouth was covered by a black grill and its eyes were as red as the incarnation of evil. It was hairless and its ears were long and pointed in contrast to Thomas' round ones.

The creature breathed heavily and suddenly let loose a fit of maniacal laughter when suddenly, an appendage snapped forward and dug a multitude of syringes into Thomas chest and he immediately wen't limp without so much as a cry of pain or anything.

The alien continued to laugh as it's appendages turned it around and began walking it back in the opposite direction, where more of its kind were passing it, on the hunt for more victims.

Only the sounds of a dying world were heard as the alien carried the limp form of Thomas Makeo away into the darkness...and to a future...where there is only...

War.

* * *

_No matter how evil or how cruel they may be, they will never trump the spirit of the Immortal Emperor. Aliens...especially the enigmatic Eldar believe they know everything about humanity simply because they are older, wiser, and have roamed the galaxy longer than humanity has existed._

_Their age means nothing in this day and age, it will not save them. Though according to the One...their Gods are already in the midst of bringing about their salvation in the form of two certain individuals._

_I can feel the presence of an Eldar God stirring in their psychic graveyards. _

_I can feel the growing anxiousness of the Bloody Handed one, who seeks to return to the material plane en mass. _

_I can feel the Goddess of Fertility beginning to feel...joyful...even in her diseased prison. _

_The Great Fool transverses the Webway domain-leading the Deceiver and the Ruinous Powers on a useless hunt for knowledge, away from their desired target._

_How the Eldar think they can bring about the final battle with Chaos is up to them, but it is we that will bear the forefront of the battle as we always have...as I always have. They cannot hope to challenge Chaos alone and as much as they would hate to admit, they need us. _

_I laugh at the thought._

_But their prophecies and divinations are useless to me, for I only desire one human to stand out among the rest._

_Whether you know it or not...Thomas...your destiny has already been set in motion long before your ancestors were born. I was made aware of you long before you were conceived. Your path and story will soon begin and the Emperor of Mankind will be waiting at the end of each._

_I await you Thomas._

_..._

_..._

_..._

_You cannot hear us directly young one because even now we must be careful and calculated. Forces of great evil and malice roam the Aether freely and seek to extinguish all threats to their power._

_One of those threats is you. __However, they cannot see you, for only two beings in the universe currently can._

_I have been aware of you since your first father was born...Yes...first father...the father of the human race. However, he foolishly chose to disregard you as a descendant and thus you were forgotten about as the human empire crumbles all around and evil begins a toast to the victory it thinks it has obtained._

_But no longer._

_You...boy...are the key to everything. __However, as a key, you are not yet whole and with all keys...they must be formed...as you will be._

_It is you that will open the door to the new age._

_Your journey to that new age begins today._

_Together, the young and the old will work together to produce a being of unrivaled character and power._

_No evil will stand against its power._

_We await you Thomas._


	5. Say My Name

**A/N: I don't expect to finish this story until I'm out of college which is...at least three or four years away and even probably beyond that. I can't believe I actually wrote sixteen chapters of the original. That was probably the farthest I've ever gotten in any of my stories-whether they were eventually deleted, re-written, or still in progress.**

**I can't thank everyone enough for showing support for the re-write and being patient. Trust me, it was hard trying to break away from the original story and the other version of the re-write I had in mind. I'm also trying to make everyone that followed the original aware of the re-write but I can't do it alone. So if you know anyone that read the original-point them here. Hell while your at it, point everyone here!**

******If any of you would like to read the original "The Boy That Would Be Emperor" for the first time or (if you read the original while it was posted) you would like to re-read it...just PM me and I'll be happy to email the folder and its contents to you. However, I forbid anybody and everybody from posting or publishing the original anywhere...online or on paper as it is still my property. It will definitely give you an idea of how much better my writing as become. Ugh...I cringe every time I re-read the original...**

******On another note, this story takes place before my other story "Phoenix King of the Eldar". Phoenix King of the Eldar will begin halfway through this story and I will let you know when that happens. If you haven't already heard, I am in the midst of rewriting that story.**

* * *

**527 days later...**

She had tried to warn him...that stupid...ignorant...thick headed...lousy excuse for a living creature.

She had tried to point him in the opposite direction of the Kabal of the Poisoned Sickle when it came screeching from the sky with its swarms of Helions, Reavers, Venoms, and Raiders. This apparent farming world stood less than a chance against the experienced and quick warriors of the Kabal.

Like a swarm of locusts, the Kabal under Archon Selia had descended from the Webway onto this relatively undefended world that was supposed to be a carefully guarded secret among the humans. What was supposed to be a secret to them was just a mere glance in their direction in her terms and just like that...it was agreed that this was the next victim for the Kabal.

When she had discovered it floating among the stars, she began her usual process before a slave taking raid. She would report the world as ripe for the sacking to the Archon and then remain there until her Kabal arrived.

That's what she was-a forward scout. She didn't care in the slightest whether she shed the blood of lesser races-it was all the same to her whereas her fellow wyches were driven to fits of lustful insanity at the thought of fighting worthy opponents or spilling blood. It didn't matter to her because in the end-most of her "sisters" ended up going and getting themselves killed. She shrugged off their deaths and laughed at them as they would be doomed to an eternity of torment in the belly of She Who Thirsts.

The name of the enemy of the entire Eldar race sent shivers up her spine and she fought to keep its name out of her head.

Back to this human she had been trying to help...this was all part of her personal thought process. She had a partial reason as to why she did it, some of it was her past and the rest of it was for amusement. Still, the human had acted totally the opposite of what she intended.

She had been on countless raids into real space and every time she had been the first to the unsuspecting world, trying to point someone or something in the opposite direction of the raid. Part of her was curious to see what they might do and the other part wanted to keep somebody alive to tell the tale.

Few understood her prophecies of doom and even fewer knew the Eldar language. It was worth a shot to her she guessed, at least she could say she tried, that was all she ever really asked of herself.

Perhaps she hit the human over the head with the butt of her knife too hard the first day she had met him and then scared him the wrong way when she had descended into the catacombs underneath his home with him.

She shrugged to herself. She tried and failed yet again and then the human had gone ahead and made her laugh by breaking out of the catacombs beneath his burning home only to fall into the hands of her Archon's personal Haemonculus-Vasili.

She scoffed at the Haemonculus' name-she hated him with a burning passion for a reason only she, the Archon, and the Haemonculus himself knew and the fact that he was a lack luster Haemonculus furthered that hatred. He was good enough at his job at the Archon didn't kill him like she had her many previous pain doctors but he was nothing special. Simple augmentations to the Archon and some of her loyal lieutenants but beyond that he simply sat at the bottom of the Kabal fortress playing with his bags of meat.

What was worse was that he had her by the metaphorical throat.

Snarling, she shook her head and looked out across the Dark City.

What it must have been like to see this once prosperous city of the Eldar Empire reduced to the worst hive of scum and murder the entire galaxy had to offer. No human hive or Corsair brotherhood could hope to match the evil and insanity that came out of this city-it was the manifestation of all evil and headed by the Great Tyrant himself.

She stood atop a narrow spire at the top of the Kabal fortress of the Poisoned Sickle looking out as the sky roamed with a variety of speedy, bladed aircraft and transports. Occasionally there would be an explosion or the sound of splinter fire somewhere in the distance as old rivalries sprang up or scores were settled in quick and merciless ways but otherwise the Kabal Fortress was relatively calm.

No one really had the strength or time to fight the Poisoned Sickle-who were thousands if not a couple million strong with allies in certain places that could be called upon on a moment's notice. Even then, those allies were rarely called upon.

She shifted onto her other leg and brought up her right leg against its opposite so that she stood on only one foot overlooking the City. Her sharp eyes shifted to the north west for any sign of suspicious activity from the nearby Kabal of the Bloody Thorns, yet another of the Dark City's thousands of Kabals. This one however was headed by a hated rival of Archon Selia's...Archon Belthian, who according to Xelian had been strangely quite these past couple cycles and thus the archon made sure that patrols around the Kabal fortress were doubled and alert.

Only she who currently stood atop the spire knew why.

"Does our dearest Hexatrix not wish to be in the company of her subordinates?" a voice called out from the right and she turned her head to see a younger wych standing on a taller spire in the exact same position. The younger aspiring wych smiled at her Hexatrix's reaction and continued, "You aren't lonely without Calsar here to keep you company hmmm?"

The older wych smirked, "Vedrin."

"My lady..." the opposite wych replied, "Seen your secret admirer lately?" she asked.

The hexatrix shook her head and turned back to look back over the city, "Nythian you say? That laughable excuse for a male wych? I have defeated him endless times more times than I would care to remember, he would bring me no satisfaction...not even here."

"Oh how I have been waiting to hear those words dearest hexatrix..." another voice said from behind her and she turned around to see yet another female about her size with dark crimson hair and similar age standing on a larger spire directly across from her.

"Xer'na...have fun toying with your plaything recently?" she laughed as Xer'na leaped expertly through the air onto another spire to her right.

"Who knew Mon'keigh could provide so much entertainment? Made it all the more better when I tossed the maggot into the warp beast pen." Xer'na sighed and cocked her head at her hexatrix.

Soon, the rest of her fabled squad began to appear on the roof top-Zelia (an older wych), He'xena (the most sadistic and bloodthirsty of the group), Asarve (a combat drug junkie), Vakali (the quickest of the squad besides the hexatrix), Uthyan (a strange wych that enjoyed experimenting with lesser races), and finally Odarias (a wych that communicated only through hand signals and facial expressions).

The hexatrix looked back over the city and soaked in the amount of pain that was being inflicted at a given point in time. Deep down, some part of her screeched in protest but for now the rest of her disregarded it and shoved it to a far corner of her mind.

"You did well my sisters." the hexatrix said as she stepped out and fell from the spire onto the solid ground of the roof, "The Archon is pleased...the Kabal teems with screams of pain and desire once more."

She cocked her head in the direction of the east, where somewhere, the Kabal of the Bloody Thorns was out there...secretly scheming to bring down their hated rivals. She smirked, "Perhaps this will finally goad the fools into a pre-emptive strike...oh how I wish they would summon the bravery to do so..."

Odarias appeared seemingly out of nowhere to her right, her crimson hair flowing across her face in the breeze as she smiled at the lead wych. The lower wych dragged an armored finger across her hexatrix throat slowly seductively. With her other hand she made a flurry of movement with her fingers.

The hexatrix moaned at the touch and pretended to bite the retreating finger as she said, "Yes...that...is what comes next. We all know they will make their move soon enough as the hate will eventually reach its apex...and that fool at the head of the Bloody Throns will drink from the Poisoned Sickle that he so desired for centuries."

The drug addict hissed from above and behind the hexatrix, "When mistress? When? When will the blood next be spilled?" her tongue licked her lips and her eyes twitched maniacally as she fought to contain her desire to kill. The other wyches, entranced by the mention of blood, also began to moan and groan like mewling kittens to their mother.

Her leader raised a hand to signal for patience as she walked forward to the edge of the roof and looked across her view of High Commorragh, where starscrapers sometimes rose higher than her own Kabal fortress. Where this might inspire jealousy in Archon Selia, the hexatrix sneered to herself at the stupidity of it all.

"Patience my sisters...patience...can you not feel the apprehension of the Bloody Thorns from here? They will make the first move. I am sure of it. When they do...we will turn what they believe to be their killing field into their own definition of fear and pain." she snarled and her fellow wyches howled and screamed in agreement.

She smiled and turned away from the skyline as her subordinates jumped down to the ground floor of the ceiling to fall in line behind her. As she found her way to the steps that would lead back into the fortress, she laughed in her mind at the stupidity of her "sisters". They adored her like no other for no other reason but the fact that she was always right about the next attack, and those attacks satisfied their urges. Even though Zelia was technically the oldest, she was not on par with her hexatrix's skill.

When they had re-entered the fortress via an outside door, the wyches split up and wen't their separate ways while the hexatrix herself stayed near the entrance to the roof for a moment before sighing blissfully and walking forward.

Along the way she passed random lovers going at it or gangs of wyches or helions tossing around a slave for fun. While she regrettably turned away from their "play", she had a more important task ahead of her. Today was the day after all that she would begin play her part as the Crone Goddess and as of now, every thread of life in this fortress and that of the Kabal of the Bloody Thorns lay in her hands.

For she had a plan, and she would see it through.

She was heading in the direction of the main Reaver jetbike hangar in the middle of the Kabal fortress when she turned a corner and ran straight into the human.

Or what once looked like a human.

The slave cried out and stumbled back, falling onto his back as the chains between his ankles kept him from moving properly. His eyes stared back at the hexatrix with paralyzing fear and he shook with an equal amount of pain.

He cried out something attune to a plea for mercy in his own language, now even more crude with his heavy injuries inflicted by beatings and pain testing. He was a sad excuse for a living creature and it made the hexatrix roll her eyes in amusement.

When her eyes came back to the bleeding slave lying there in the middle of the intersection, she knew that this was the human...this was the one that had gotten himself captured by Vasili. The faintest of qualities...dark tan skin that barely hung on him anymore...his drooping eyes, signaled to her that this was the one. This was the one she had tried to warn about his impending doom and had once again added to the tally of failed advanced warnings.

Now...she could barely recognize much of anything human about him.

It was curious to note that he was the only one of the many different species she had forewarned over the centuries to have actually survived the invasions when they came. All the rest had gone down in the swift and bloody attacks that followed not a couple cycles after her warnings.

She found that interesting.

It wasn't like he hadn't acted like the rest, he had showed complete and utter paralyzing fear in her presence just like the rest, but she hadn't expected him to actually go _towards _the burning of the area around his home. Perhaps he was too psychologically scarred and paralyzed to fully take in what was happening, she didn't know. She didn't care.

Perhaps it was the smallest amount of pity in the universe that allowed her to reach in her waist pockets and throw a handful of bread crumbs at his feet. The slave seemed to forget all about his fear and he hungrily lapped at the small amounts of food that had been tossed to him by the alien woman.

"I am a generous goddess Mon'keigh." she sneered as she walked over and delivered a vicious kick to the slave's ribs. The deformed human cried out in pain and fell onto his side, his hands still feebly reaching for the bread crumbs.

"...and you should treat me as such." she added and stomped on his stomach, causing blood to spill from his mouth and open wounds all across his body.

She looked down at his broken form and shook her head in disgust. He was a stupid creature and nothing more and it angered her that said stupid creature could exist in this universe. The hexatrix gave one last snort of disgust and walked away continuing on her business.

The time was soon approaching that she would confront the slave's new master once and for all and win back what once was hers. That was why she had kept an eye on him at all times as he roamed about the Kabal-running errands for the pain doctor. She had categorized his movements and memorized the patterns of common paths. When the final day of her stay in the Dark City came to be, she knew the pain doctor would walk the same paths the slave was.

She would be waiting for him.

In the midst of the coming together of her plan, she suddenly stopped and turned around.

The slave was gone.

As were the bread crumbs.

She blinked a couple of times.

She wondered why she kept giving him food every now and then.

The hexatrix shoved the thoughts to a far corner of her mind and made her way to the jetbike hangar near the mid-section of the fortress. There was deal she needed to complete. On the way she passed several of her comrades and they exchanged nods of acknowledgement before she entered the wide hangar that housed the sleek and dagger-shaped Reaver jetbikes.

The Reavers were layered all along the oval shaped hangar-either sitting on the level that everyone walking into the hangar on or handing from the walls and ceiling via metal appendages sticking out from the walls. The hangar was massive in order to house the thousands upon thousands of jetbikes needed for the Kabal's many pilots.

She found the nearest jetbike sitting on a causeway to her right and kicked the slave that was cleaning its hull over the edge of the causeway into the chasm below, not caring for its screams as she slipped her right leg over the seat and reached for the ignition key.

"I would appreciate if you stopped doing that. Slaves, be it humans or any other lesser being...are not to be taken for granted." a new voice sounded from the entrance that the hexatrix had just walked through.

She froze her movements and took a breath, "My archon."

Archon Selia, the head of the Kabal of the Poisoned Sickle, was a tall and athletic wych whose abilites and beauty far outclassed that of the hexatrix. These were perhaps the only reasons that the hexatrix herself was jealous of the archon and nothing more.

The lady archon's ridiculously long midnight blue hair was tied together in a tail by one clip near the base of her head and then multiple bladed clips every few inches the rest of the way. Some said that she was trying to replicate Lelith Hesperax in her appearance, but those people were never seen or heard from again after they had uttered such rumors.

The hexatrix cocked her head in the direction of her archon, who was emerging from the shadows under the entrance to the hangar, her eyes and mouth forming what looked like a friendly grin but behind it all hid a mind as dark and as murderous as the rest of Commorragh.

"The sight of such lesser creatures actually living annoys me." the hexatrix replied, spreading her arms, "I cannot help myself."

The archon held her smile, "A hilarious lie...nevertheless..." she walked over to the jetbike and jumped up onto its hull, walking forward and bending down atop the hood to face the hexatrix, who sat still in the seat. The archon leaned forward with expert balance and her grin widened even more.

"The thrill of spilled blood becoming too much for you...Craftworlder?" she asked, cocking her head.

The hexatrix narrowed her eyes and barred her increasingly sharp teeth as she snarled, "I care not for that prison that I am forced to acknowledge was once my home. You question my motives my archon? Why would I have so willingly handed myself over to you in the first place?" the hexatrix snarl became a smile, "We have this conversation nearly every pass, are you not convinced of something?"

Selia leaned forward even more so that her cool breath was upon the hexatrix's face, "I appreciate your devotion...No...these last few raids have brought in the most abundant and worthy of maggots to be toyed with in the arenas for a _very _long time...Especially these humans...my my...have a grudge against them do you?"

The hexatrix leaned forward so that their faces were mere inches from each other, "My father...was butchered by their filthy hands...and I will see them all humiliated and pained...as I have been pained and humiliated."

"Oh...that's right...you had a life before you came to me. How interesting." the archon sneered and hopped to shift her weight between her legs but not retreating at all. "A wise choice for a young and bloody bride like yourself. It is further interesting that you have become nearly irreplaceable since your arrival...the worlds we previously...enjoyed...do not compare nearly as much as the ones you find."

"I have my sources." the hexatrix smiled.

The archon's smile loosened and she reached out to drag a talon like finger across the hexatrix's cheek, "Do be careful out there...lest you _want _the Bloody Thorns to find you out there." Selia then stood up and backed off the hood of the Reaver.

"You know me my archon..." the hexatrix said as she kick started the jet bike and felt it hum to life and lift off the ground. The hexatrix urged it forward and stopped it right to the side of the archon, who raised an eyebrow.

She turned to the archon and tossed her long tail of hair behind her and said, "I am fiercely loyal."

The archon smiled.

With that, the hexatrix punched accelerator and felt the Reaver lurch dramatically as it responded instantly to her hand movements. It sped along the runway in the middle of the hangar towards the exit where only the swirling dark sky of Commorragh was visible. She began to scream in ecstasy as the jetbike's speed wen't higher and higher until it exited the the hangar and flew out over the gloomy sky.

She gave the jetbike a couple of twists, turns, and rolls before leveling it out and diving into the cloud cover below her, intent on one destination.

She had business in the Null City.

The lone Reaver stayed just below the clouds as its pilot maneuvered it upside down where she could get an odd view of the Commorragh that passed beneath her. Ironically, it looked peaceful from up high but down below it was inevitable that innumerable number of plots, schemes, and murders were taking place.

Tonight, she was going to add to that number.

The Null City was near what most what associate as the center of Commorragh and dangerously closed to the Black Heart Kabal, home to the Great Tyrant himself. She had no fears about the Great Tyrant interfering with her plans however, he had more important and malicious duties to attend to than deal with but a lonely hexatrix on the path to betraying her Kabal.

A about a half an hour later of flight time she looked down and saw that the grand spires that once indicated the powerful Kabals of Commorragh were beginning to disappear. This was her time to act.

She forced the Reaver into a dive and her grin widened to maniacal levels as she felt the rush of blood throughout her body. The thrill of going at such a speed was exhilarating.

Soon, a large opening in the ground seemed to appear before her eyes and she knew this was the way to the Null City. The opening in the ground was actually a simple passage way from High Commorragh to Low Commorragh, and passing through it indicated that the danger would increase ten fold.

She felt no fear however.

As she passed through the opening in the ground she was met by yet another layer of clouds but this time the cover was thinner and not as abundant in High Commorragh and she passed through it rather quickly.

The Null City lay before her.

There was barely any artificial light lighting the laughable excuse for a shanty city. The only light coming from passing patrols of tiny Kabals or random splinter fire being used to settle old scores. The hexatrix leveled the Reaver out and made her way northwest over the shack city.

Another couple minutes of flight time and she looked down to see a singular shack with her sharp eyes that appeared to between a larger multitude of shacks that were arranged in a poor representation of a talon from a winged creature.

This was her destination.

She dove with the Reaver and passed over the tiny metal shack once before coming around and landing to the side of it. The hexatrix knew no one else would be here for any squatters or lowly creatures that had inhabited this part of the Null City had been exterminated, evidenced by the number of smoldering corpses still surrounding the singular shack.

_Good...they're here..._She thought as she exited her Reaver and strode inside the shack. It was nothing more than a tall rectangular room with a small wooden table in the middle. It almost made her laugh at the simplicity of it.

The hexatrix looked around the rundown shack before smiling to no one and asking aloud, "Oh...I do hope no one will surprise me here...I am just a young maiden of our light-hearted cousins...I do not wish to go like that..."

There was a shadowy movement to her left and she felt herself being thrust up against the wall with her legs spread out. She felt large and cool hands grip her underneath her thighs and warm lips engulf hers as she moaned into her lover's mouth, wrapping her arms around the broad and armored shoulders of Valos Xel of the Kabal of the Bloody Thorns.

"Hello there my sweet...did you miss my horrifying face?" Valos grinned with sharpened teeth as they broke their lustful kiss.

"Not in the slightest...I was in fact being entertained by one of my own before I remembered my little Kabalite prince waiting for me across the city." the hexatrix laughed, which earned another passionate kiss on the neck.

The female laughed and gently pushed her lover away while saying, "There will be time for more fun later my dear...but now...business."

Valos smiled again and stood aside as the sound of sputtering engines flared all around outside the shack and lights began to shine through the cracks and holes int he walls. Soon the sound of the engines faded as heavy footsteps replaced them, much heavier than her own.

Through the openings on either side of the opposite wall came three massive forms and two more appeared from the entrances to her left and right. She recognized their armor immediately-four incubi and one archon.

Archon Belthian, head of the Kabal of the Bloody Thorns.

He was a larger Eldar with scars going this way and that across his face-the result of an uncountable number of assassination attempts from within and external threats. His armor was a dark shade of red with the singular symbol of a thorny branch dripping blood on his left breast plate. His armor was serrated where it needed to be and curved to signify his superiority.

He was far larger than her own Archon and by all means far more sinister, but the measuring of evil in Commorragh had no limits. Apparently he had once been a distant relative of Nyos Yllithian of the White Flames but had been kicked out for trying to assassinate said Archon. Having built his Kabal up from literally nothing, he would similarly stop at nothing to expand its domain.

The archon narrowed his midnight black eyes at the hexatrix who simply smiled back as the two came closer to the table in the middle of the shack, having been lit by two small candles brought in by a deformed slave who quickly hurried out.

"You are the one that made me this offer, what your terms?" Belthian asked gruffly.

The hexatrix sighed and dragged her right hand around the table lazily, "My dear archon, we both know it will never be as simple as that...we both know that our agreement will end the moment both of our actions on this cycle are sealed. Nevertheless...my terms are simple..." she said as she reached into her pockets on her waist.

The incubi moved forward a step and tightened their grips on their klaives.

The hexatrix chuckled but removed a single object from her pouch and tossed it up onto the table so that it was clearly illuminated by the light from the candles. The archon's eyes drifted to the object and he reached for it and held it out in front of it, running his fingers over it before looking to the hexatrix for clarification.

"The webway rune as promised. Used for quick escapes and equally sudden surprises. This one in particular I stole off of a farseer of Biel-Tan Craftworld. Tough to do I might add, dancing with the seers." the hexatrix smiled.

"I care not for your little history lessons wych, I know how to use it." he snarled and he closed his fist over the rune and placed it in his waist pouches and he turned back to the hexatrix as he continued, "In five cycles time, the invasion will commence. I will have Selia's head and that fortress. Their will be no title of archon for you little wych." he smiled grimly.

The hexatrix twirled a finger through her long hair and sighed, "My dear archon, did I say I wanted that position in the first place? The title would be nice...but the number of attempted assassinations? The responsibilities? Oh no...I do think that is not within my realm of interest."

"Then what do you ask for?" the Archon asked suspiciously.

The female smiled excitedly, this was what she was waiting for, "That you leave the pain doctor to me...he and I have some...unfinished...business to attend to you. Do what you wish with my Kabal, I care not for any of their fates. Lastly...that I be granted a position within your ranks...you know...for obvious reasons." she said as Valos stepped forward behind her into the light.

The archon looked from Valos to the hexatrix before he snarled in disgust and he shook his head, "Very well. If you are killed in the crossfire, She Who Thirsts will have your soul, I will not think of you again. If you are not, then the Bloody Thorns will reward you for your efforts." he said as he nodded, which signaled to the incubi that it was time to leave. The archon and his bodyguards turned on their heels and swiftly left, the sounds of the Raider craft and Venoms flaring their engines sounded before they disappeared once more into the Commorraghan sky.

The hexatrix smield and sighed happily as she turned around, receiving another kiss from Valos. When they broke apart, they held each other in their lover's arms.

Valos spoke, "Soon, we shall be together finally, no longer separated by the names of Kabals." he slipped his hand across her stomach and up towards her breastplate hungrily but her hands were upon his instantly.

She leaned forward and whispered into his right ear, "I prefer to have our hunger for each other denied until the end of the fifth cycle. Then...when our victory is assured...may the celebration be twice as great. Don't you agree my love?"

The Kabalite warrior pulled back and eyed the female before smiling, "How could I have been so foolish...of course my sweet...that sounds much more preferable."

The hexatrix smiled lustfully and gave him a brushing kiss on the cheek before climbing off the table he had pushed her onto and made for the entrance she had first come through. She stopped at the opening and cocked her head back to see Valos smiling back at her.

"May I have my love's name before I head off into the great slaughter?" he laughed sarcastically.

The female wagged a finger back at him, "You must rescue me from the clutches of my cruel Kabal to learn my name...only then will I reward you with the beauty of my name." she laughed and jumped acrobatically onto her waiting jetbike just outside the entrance, leaving her lover to chuckle in amusement.

She flared the engines and took off into the night, back towards the Kabal of the Poisoned Sickle's fortress.

As the Null City became embroiled in thick fog once more, her grip on the jetbike's controls became harder as her heart rate quickened. Her thoughts were racing with apprehension and she was caught between excitement and fear. Somehow, she found her middle ground and relaxed herself.

Her eyes narrowed and she lost her smile. Everywhere along her body, her nerves became as cold and hard as steel.

"My name is Annath." she said coldly, "Annath of Ulthwé."

* * *

_She is a disgrace to life._

_She has her motives, and now you see...she is an excellent strategist. _

_This one that you have chosen will kill and murder like the rest of her kind. Using her situation to her advantage is her specialty and she will see my son dead._

_And humans are any different? You mistake how similar they are...our kin._

_Our kin?_

_Our kin._


End file.
